


Chiaroscuro Episode 1:  The Doe

by ThatSameSong



Series: Chiaroscuro (Life is Strange AU) [1]
Category: Life Is Strange (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bisexual Character, Bisexuality, F/F, Female Friendship, Friends to Lovers, Gen, Gun Violence, Lesbian Character, Male-Female Friendship, Nerdiness, Platonic Relationships, Romance, Science, Swearing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:48:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 24,335
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23204983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatSameSong/pseuds/ThatSameSong
Summary: chiaroscuro (noun):  the contrast between light and darknessChloe Price has just returned to Arcadia Bay after being gone for five years.  She's ready to start again:  new friends, new school, new life.  Seattle and the absence of her best friend have changed her.  But Chloe isn't the only one whose changed.  After a fateful bathroom encounter, Chloe makes a decision that will change the course of her destiny and possibly the fate of Arcadia Bay.
Relationships: Maxine "Max" Caulfield/Chloe Price
Series: Chiaroscuro (Life is Strange AU) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1668319
Comments: 5
Kudos: 39





	1. Blackwell

**Author's Note:**

> So this is an AU idea I've been working on for a while. It should be noted that this isn't a simple "character personalities reversed" AU with some minor changes. Chloe isn't like Max and Max isn't like Chloe. Those are fundamental and unchangeable truths of the narrative. Instead of switching their core personalities, this AU basically swaps their circumstances (the Chloe in this AU is closer to the Chloe we see in Before the Storm, but also significantly different). And Max is close to how she was in the beginning of the original game, but with a few differences based on the fact that she has essentially taken what was Chloe's role in the original game. 
> 
> Cover art made by me using the game models (and Blender).

Chloe was trying to pay attention in class. She really was. But she kept getting distracted.

It would help if Chloe wasn't trying to figure out _the most complicated science problem in the fucking universe._

Chloe groaned and dragged a hand through her hair. _Shit._ She should know this. She'd been studying her ass off. Why would her dumb brain choose _now_ to go totally blank? It was like her own mind was conspiring against her.

Mikey was messing around with the beakers, a big frown on his face. He looked even more clueless than Chloe. But of course only one of them was a complete science dork.

Chloe noticed Ms. Holt looking at her. Her cheeks turned red. Chloe ducked her head, shoving her face into her textbook. _Crap. Did Ms. Holt see that? Um, duh, of course Ms. Holt saw that. She literally sees everything._

She peeked out from behind her textbook, her heart hammering against her ribs. Ms. Holt had turned away.

Chloe lowered the book. _Thank fucking god._ She seriously thought she was busted. Ms. Holt was probably going to notice that Chloe was the only one not working. That would definitely screw up Chloe's record. _Do or die, Price. Do or die._

She snatched a pair of beakers away from Mikey, her elbow brushing against a half-full vial.

"Dude, you're gonna blow us up," she said. "Let me do it."

Mikey folded his arms. He wanted to be pissed, but he knew Chloe was right. The fact that Ms. Holt even let him near the dangerous chemicals was a miracle.

Chloe topped off the first beaker with a few drops from the second. She flinched, waiting for it to foam over. She was pretty confident, but she had no idea what Mikey had fucked with while she was distracted. Why even pair them up? Chloe always ended up doing ninety-percent of the work. Not that she minded.

The liquid fizzed a little, but it didn't foam over. _Awesome._

She reached for another beaker, her fingers twitching. If Chloe wanted, she could have busted this experiment wide open. She had a few ideas that would have really set off fireworks. Something that would have really blown Ms. Holt’s mind.

_But Chloe wasn’t in the business of blowing minds. Not today. Today she was mortal. More human than human._

"Oh, shit!" Brooke shouted.

Startled, Chloe turned to look.

Brooke was standing near the front with Stella at their work station. She was holding a big beaker in her hand, watching helplessly as it fizzed over. She must have added too much of something. Brooke was probably trying to show off. _Again._ Classic Brooke.

Ms. Holt was at Brooke's side almost instantly. The contents of the beaker had stopped fizzing out by the time she got there, but she grabbed it from Brooke's hand.

Chloe tried not to be too happy about that. _Whose the fuck-up now, Brooke?_

Why did Chloe even try? She was never going to live up to a kiss-ass like Brooke or Stella Warren. Those two were the real A Team. Chloe liked science. She really did. Or at least she liked it when she wasn't spacing out like a total idiot. _Focus, Price. You only get one chance to make a first expression._

"Do I add potassium or sodium?" said Mikey.

Snapping back to reality, Chloe jerked her head up. _Oh. Right._ Chloe totally forgot that she was in stupid science class doing a stupid experiment at stupid school for her stupid grade. And Mikey was looking at her like she had the keys to the kingdom. That desperate dumbass expression he always had on when they were paired together.

"Sodium, nerd," said Chloe.

She reached for it as she spoke. She liked Mikey, but she really wished he'd just let her do everything. Less accidents _and_ she got to impress Ashley Holt? Sign her up!

Chloe's hand stopped halfway to the beaker of sodium. She frowned, squinting one eye as her fingers twitched almost involuntarily. She felt something in her head. A pressure, like the inside of her skull was getting crushed like a soda can. The world shook and crumpled out, the interior light scorching the inside of her eyes like a camera flash.

"Oh shit," said Mikey. "Chloe."

His voice--her name--bounced around her head, hitting the walls and rolling off like a metal ball.

Chloe reached up to her face. She smeared something thick and red across her upper lip. _Blood._ A nosebleed.

She jerked her head up, recoiling from her own blood. Chloe could smell it. She could smell the iron in her own blood. She almost gagged, stumbling away from her work station.

Mikey tried to grab her, but Chloe backed away. The room was splintering and spinning, dipping and curling around her vision.

"Chloe?" said Ms. Holt. "Are you okay?"

Chloe tried to focus on Ms. Holt’s voice. The only sound Chloe would have wanted to hear when she was having a meltdown.

"I-I need to--bathroom," said Chloe.

She reached over and grabbed her backpack. She pulled it against her chest, snuggling it into her like it was a stuffed animal. Chloe could feel the weight of her science books. It felt too heavy to be real. She felt like it was trying to drag her through the floor.

Chloe left in a hurry, rushing through the stations. She brushed past Ms. Holt and Brooke, catching a whiff of Ms. Holt's perfume as she exited. Even through the spinning, Chloe felt her cheeks turn red as her shoulder lightly brushed against Ms. Holt's. Just a tap. But it gave Chloe a really bad case of butterflies.

Once she was out in the hallway, Chloe sucked in a deep breath. She relaxed her arms, letting them dangle. Letting the weight of her backpack pull it down to the floor. She slumped against the wall beside the closed classroom door, her chest expanding and retracting rapidly. _Everything is fine. Everything is awesome. Everything is okay._

It occurred to Chloe that she'd gone from making an idiot of herself in class to being a total drama queen. What an upgrade.

She wiped her nose. _What the fuck?_ A nosebleed? Really? Since when did Chloe Price get nosebleeds? What was she, an _anime_ character? _Ha ha ha, Price. Hilarious._

While Chloe was at it, one more thing she didn't do: running out in the middle of class like a weirdo. Bu that was fine, right? Chloe was sure Ms. Holt was impressed. Bad girls got all the hot science ladies. _Bad girl? You? Get over yourself._

Chloe needed to just chill for a few minutes. There was no way she could go back to class like that. She must have looked like a total loser. Bathroom time. Chloe had some time before class actually ended. If she hurried, she could be back before the bell rang.

She stuck in her earbuds. There was no point in cruising the semi-empty halls of her favorite hellhole without tunes.

Chloe danced down the hallway, bobbing her head to _“_ Dollar Store” by Just Fern. She dragged her fingers across the lockers, her gaze flitting from poster to poster. She moved quickly, an electric pulse traveling up her legs, hips, and chest as she jerked her body around to the music. A grin--her first of the day--spread across Chloe's face as she enjoyed the empty hallway. Thank god no one could see her dorking out like that. Brooke and Stella would have laughed their asses off.

But Chloe didn't give a crap. She was allowed to enjoy herself. She was allowed to have fun. She was allowed to forget about this shitty fucking day.

She spotted Samuel mopping near the front doors. Chloe waved at him, but of course he didn't see her. Not that she cared. Samuel was such a weirdo. The good kind of weird, but still weird. Only at Blackwell Academy. Land of the freaks.

Chloe noticed another one of those Missing Persons posters. There were dozens of them plastered all over the campus. Chloe had seen at least twenty of them in the parking lot. She really didn't get it. Sure, it was messed up that some girl was missing. But why would anyone put up that many posters in one area? Someone must have really given a shit about this girl.

She moved closer to get a better look. _Rachel Amber. Nineteen._ Chloe had to admit, the girl was a total knockout. The prettiest smile and eyes that pierced even in black and white. Hard to believe someone so cool could have lived in Arcadia Bay. Chloe wondered what happened to her. If she had to guess, probably nothing good.

Shrugging, Chloe backed away from the poster and continued to the bathroom. Not her problem.

She shoved open the bathroom door and darted inside. Chloe yanked out her earbuds and tucked them into her backpack. _Empty. Awesome. Let it all out, Price._

Chloe walked over to the sink, her eyes flitting from wall to wall. The usual graffiti. Edge and angst. Because it wouldn't be Blackwell without some nice street art. Chloe wished she could take credit for some of the truly inspiring quotes. But of course she was only half-responsible for the amazing defacement of the Blackwell bathroom. There were other kids with markers wandering those hallowed halls.

Someone had written _Why are you wearing that stupid bunny suit?_ next to a poorly-drawn cartoon bunny. Underneath that, Chloe had written _Why are you wearing that stupid man suit?_ alongside a silly cartoon man taking a dump.

She grinned, whipping out her trusty marker. The walls could always use more of Chloe’s personal flair.

Chloe knelt down beside a particularly enlightening piece of Blackwell wisdom: _Blackwell sucks dicks._ Truly a sentiment Chloe could understand. And she would expect nothing less from a school filled with art kids. But Chloe couldn't help thinking that wonderful comment needed a little more.

She tapped the marker to her chin for a few seconds. It didn't take her long to realize what that particular wall was missing: the ol' Chloe charm. Chloe was feeling kind of nostalgic. She wanted to remind Blackwell that she was there, even if no one gave a shit.

It was probably going to get removed later, but Chloe didn't care. Nothing was forever. Especially bathroom graffiti. At the very least, Chloe got to take a sweet shot of it for her personal album. Maybe Chloe should have taken photography. She could have snapped a bunch of bathroom graffiti photos and called it "High School Melancholy" or some shit. That pretentious photo teacher guy would have probably creamed his pants over it.

Chloe straightened up and tucked her marker into her pocket. Finally, proof that Chloe Price didn't half-ass everything. Maybe Principal Wells would get off her crack if he saw this.

It was a butterfly. A beautifully detailed butterfly. Chloe’s best work.

Chloe stepped away from the wall. It was about time she headed back to class. She was feeling way better and Ms. Holt was probably freaking out. Mikey was definitely worried too.

Chloe groaned. _Ugh._ She was probably going to get lectured by Principal Wells about skipping class. But it wasn't even her fault. She got sick. It sucked, but it happened. Even Principal Wells wasn't _that_ much of a tool, right? He'd totally let her off if she just told him what happened in class.

She laughed. _Good one, Price._ This wouldn't be the first time Chloe made up some dumb story to get out of class. Chloe was definitely about to get reamed. _Again._ _Geez._ She'd only been there less than a month and she was already on the principal's hit list. That had to be a record.

This place was really the worst. All those pretentious art kids and that asshole security guard. But it wasn't just Blackwell. Arcadia Bay was the biggest shit sandwich in Oregon. Chloe wished she could just torch the whole place and start over somewhere else. Somewhere new.

Something blue flitted across the corner of Chloe's vision.

A butterfly. A blue butterfly, its wings grabbing air currents as it ducked and weaved across the bathroom. Chloe watched as it moved, mesmerized by the color. Watched its jerky dips and dives.

She watched the butterfly land on the edge of a bucket. Someone--definitely Samuel--had left a bunch of cleaning stuff in the bathroom. Or maybe that was always there.

Chloe knelt next to the bucket. She expected the butterfly to bolt when she got too close, but it didn't move. It was like it didn't even feel her breath on its wings. Chloe had never seen one of those beauties up close.

Chloe started to straighten up. She had better things to do than stare at a butterfly all day. Chloe had to explain stuff to Ms. Holt and maybe Principal Wells. And if she was lucky, she might not get suspended or have her scholarship killed. _Ha ha._ But seriously, everyone was probably pissed at her. _Welcome to Blackhell._

She froze when she heard the bathroom door. She heard it swing forward, air whooshing inward as someone stepped into the bathroom. Footsteps tapping on the smooth tile floor. The subtle hiss of the door getting suctioned back into its place. Swinging shut and trapping Chloe inside with whoever just came in.

Chloe pressed herself against the side of the last stall, hands twisting around the strap of her bag. _Fuck._ No more peace and quiet. _Nice one, dumbass._

The footsteps rapidly approached the end of the stalls. They stopped just short, pausing about a foot from Chloe's hiding place. A few more steps and they would have spotted her. Chloe wasn't even really hiding. She was just standing there like an idiot, kneading the strap of her bag and waiting for them to leave.

Chloe wasn't even sure why she was standing there like that. She didn't give a crap if any of those art kids found her in the bathroom. Chloe had a right to be there. And wasn't there some unspoken rule about bathrooms at Blackwell? "Whatever happens in the bathroom stays in the bathroom"? Chloe had nothing to hide.

But she stayed where she was, even as the footsteps retreated to the sinks. She had a bad feeling about this. Maybe it had something to do with how the person who came in had checked to make sure the coast was clear.

A familiar voice floated over from by the sinks. It bounced off the walls, filling up the entire bathroom. It was deep and jittery, almost like the person was shaking.

"It's fine, bro," they were saying. "Don't--don't freak out. You've got this."

Chloe stiffened in place, her back flat against the stall. _Fuck._ What the hell was _he_ doing in there? Was the boys' room full or something? Or was Chloe just really unlucky?

Nathan Prescott. The last guy Chloe wanted to piss off. Not that she needed to worry about him freaking out on her. He was _always_ pissed off. And Chloe was smart enough to stay away. Apparently the universe had other plans. Just when Chloe thought her day couldn't get any worse, the universe shoved a Prescott in her face.

Nathan continued, his voice rising as he paced. He sounded more agitated than usual. And given how Nathan always acted like he was one comment away from a meltdown, Chloe was a little worried. Nathan was weird, but talking to himself in the girls' bathroom? That was new.

Chloe almost wanted to step out of hiding and confront him, but she wasn't an idiot. She had to stay on his good side. Chloe didn't need any Prescott-level drama in her life. Standing there and waiting for Arcadia Bay's most acclaimed spoiled rich asshole seemed like a small price--no pun intended--to pay for dodging Nathan's hit list.

"You own this place," said Nathan. "You're the boss."

Chloe's stomach turned over. Was this guy on something? She knew Nathan dealt cheap shit to some of his fellow Blackwellers. The rich kids ate that stuff like it was candy. And she'd heard a lot of insane stories about Nathan. Stories about all the pills he was on and the messed up shit that went down at those Vortex Club parties. It was all hype, just people swapping bullshit to make Nathan Prescott sound like some kind of badass. But now Chloe was a lot more convinced. Nathan sounded very much _not okay._

She listened to him mumbling nonsense for way too long. Something about his dad and how the Prescotts were about to own this hellhole and all kinds of weird crap that didn't make any sense. Had Nathan finally lost it? After all the pills, the partying, and whatever other screwed up stuff he was into, had Nathan Prescott just snapped?

The bathroom door swung open again, almost ramming the wall.

Chloe bit her lip, holding the strap of her bag tighter. She could feel the strap pulled tight, pillowing itself across the front of her shirt like a seatbelt. Keeping her in place. Chloe couldn't run away. She wasn't sure she ever had the chance.

"So what do you want?" said Nathan.

He was talking to the person who'd just come in. Chloe didn't look. She just listened, massaging the strap of her bag and waiting for it to be over. It had to be over soon, right? It had to be.

"I want to talk to you," the newcomer said.

The voice was strangely calm and authoritative, but not in a teacher way. It reminded Chloe of that asshole security guard who was always on her case for some reason.

Nathan let out a forced laugh. One minute in and he was already coming apart like cheap thread. Chloe could tell that he was losing control. If he ever had control in the first place, which seemed fucking laughable.

"Of course you fucking do," said Nathan. "Well, you're shit out of luck.”

The other person sighed.

"I’m not here for cash, Nathan," said the other person. "Get real, Nathan. I’m trying to help you.”

Nathan made a noise. It sounded like he was trying to snort in disbelief, but it sounded more like he was choking on something. Of course Nathan wasn't used to being hassled.

"You don't know anything about me," said Nathan.

Chloe heard shuffling footsteps, like the other person was moving closer to the sink. Closer to Nathan.

"I know more than you think," they said.

Nathan's shoes slid on the tiles as he moved quickly. He must have spun away from the sink.

"You're such a nosy fucking bitch," he said. "You think you can just analyze me like that? You think you know what's best for me? You have no fucking clue. No. Fucking. Clue."

His voice was shaking with rage. Even though Nathan had no clue she was there, Chloe felt a twinge of fear in her chest. Nathan sounded like he'd totally lost it. He sounded _rabid._

"You need to mind your own fucking business," he said.

The other person spoke, their voice suddenly rising in complete panic. They no longer sounded smooth and in control.

"Whoa, what are you doing with that?" they said. "Put--put that down."

They didn't even sound like a real person. They sounded like a cornered animal. A bunny facing down a wolf. Chloe had never heard so much fear in a human voice.

Chloe peeked out from her hiding place. She didn't give a shit if Nathan Prescott saw her.

The fear slammed into Chloe's chest, punching the air out of her lungs. She wanted to duck back into her nice safe hiding place. She wanted to sink to the floor and never be noticed. But it was too late. Chloe was watching this play out in real time, her body rooted to the spot and her eyes wide open.

Nathan Prescott had a gun. _A gun._ An actual gun. And Chloe was willing to bet that it was loaded. _Holy shit. HOLY SHIT._

His eyes bugging with rage, Nathan grabbed the person he was talking to. He shoved them against the wall, jabbing the gun into them like a baton. He was breathing way too fast and way too hard, his fingers twitching maniacally like he was having some kind of reaction.

"Please," said the person. "Think about this. Think about what you're doing."

But Nathan jammed the gun at them, pressing it against their chest.

"Stop telling me what to do!" he said. "Why does _everyone_ think they can tell me what to do?"

Chloe could almost see the person, but half of them was obscured by Nathan's body. She saw a messy pixie cut dyed red, a punk shirt with some kind of animal on the front, ripped jeans, boots. And something that made Chloe do a double take, because it looked kind of... The thought stuttered in Chloe's brain.

"Stop it!" said the person.

They tried to shove Nathan away, their fingers roughly clawing at his face as they fought him. They pushed, Nathan stumbled back, and the gun...the gun...

The sound. The _sound._ It hit the walls and floor at the same time. It bounced. It bounced from ceiling to walls to floor and back again a dozen times. It throbbed in the back of Chloe's head, making her recoil. It hit her skin and her bones, reverberating deep inside her chest like a drumbeat.

The person fell to the floor, their arms splayed. They hit the tiles on their side, hair falling over their face. Blood ballooned from the wound, staining their shirt and spilling onto the tiles like paint. It could have been a painting, a Renaissance work of art. But it was real. It was fucking _real._

Chloe whispered the name, even as the shock numbed her tongue. It didn't come out of her at first. But she forced it out, forced her dry lips to work. Made her vocal cords work. And the name fell out of her, it tumbled out of her mouth as she moved out of her hiding spot.

"Max!" said Chloe.

She threw up her arm, like she thought she could reach her from there, like she thought she could grab Nathan or Max from where she stood. Chloe's guts were twisting in the worst way possible, a slow burning pain that writhed through her. But the pain wasn't real. The only real thing was Max.

Chloe had the sensation of her head being crushed again. But this time the pressure only lasted a second, long enough for her to realize it was there. It was like someone crumpled and uncrumpled a piece of notebook paper. The edges smoothed out before the agony could hit.

She felt the world twisting around her hand. Twisting around _her._ The air was being vacuumed out of her lungs. Chloe felt light, she felt like she was being emptied. But all she could really focus on was that subtle pressure in her head and.…

* * *

.......and Chloe was back in Ms. Holt's class.

She jerked her head up. _What the fuck?_

Chloe could feel Mikey staring at her, his eyebrows raised in confusion. But she didn't care. She didn't care that she must have looked nuts. She didn't care that she was shaking and sweating in the middle of class.

It felt like she'd just woken up from a dream. But it _wasn't a dream._ There was no way she just blacked out and imagined all of that, right? _No fucking way._ Chloe could still smell the bathroom, she could hear Nathan's voice pulsing at the back of her head, she could _see_ the blood. She could see _Max._ It was so clear, like she was watching it in real time. But she _wasn't._ Chloe was in class. She was okay.

Chloe grabbed her chest, her breath coming out in stutters. _Okay, Price. You need to calm down. There's no way that was real. You're just losing it._

Mikey reached to touch Chloe's shoulder, to ask her what the hell was wrong. But Chloe pulled away like his touch was toxic. Chloe felt like she'd dissolve if he touched her. The world would melt and she would be back in the bathroom. Ms. Holt's classroom would just flicker out and Chloe would be forced to watch a girl--Max--bleed out on the bathroom floor.

She stared at the front of the room, her stomach clenching into a knot. _Fuck. FUCK._ Chloe knew this. She knew exactly what was going to happen next. But that was impossible. Chloe's head was crowded with things she shouldn't have known. But she'd been here before.

"Oh shit!"

Brooke was holding the beaker. The beaker was foaming over. Ms. Holt was rushing to help Brooke get everything under control. Stella was watching with worry all over her face.

Chloe felt like her heart was going to bust open in her chest. _This is real. Oh shit, this is real. Oh shit oh shit oh shit oh shit._

"Chloe? Chloe?" said Mikey.

He reached to grab her wrist or something, to pull her back into reality. But his hand darted out too quickly and too clumsily. Mikey's hand brushed against an empty beaker, knocking it off the table. It hit the floor and split into pieces.

Ms. Holt spoke from beside Brooke and Stella's work station.

"Really, Mikey?" she said. "Again?"

Chloe stifled a laugh. _Hey, that's my line._

Mikey held up both hands, stammering out a weak defense against his latest blunder. Mikey had a terrible track record of breaking beakers. So far only empty ones.

Chloe looked at her hand, eyes darting to and from the broken beaker. _Okay, Price, you have obviously lost your mind. Totally nuts._

But if she _was_ nuts, why not go all the way? Screw it. Chloe had nothing to lose. If she was insane, she was insane. But there was always the tiniest chance that she _wasn't_ nuts. And what kind of scientist passed up the opportunity for an experiment?

Chloe raised her hand. Almost instantly, she felt the world twisting and dancing around her fingers. It was like when she almost fainted in class, but this time Chloe could feel the control. She was unraveling time like a loose thread. The crushing pressure was suddenly familiar and strangely comforting, even as the world crumbled and reddened around the corners of Chloe's vision.

She let go of the string. And just like that, it pulled taut and snapped in two. The world steadied, finding its place around her. For a split second, the light burned. But then everything slid back into focus.

Chloe looked down at the table. She saw the beaker first. The same one Mikey had smashed. Or was _going_ to smash. It was completely intact, like that never happened. As if Chloe _made it_ not happen.

"Are you okay?" said Mikey.

He started to reach for her wrist, to shake her out of her trace.

But Chloe wasn't in a trance. She was alert, her senses crawling over each other. It was like an instant replay. Everything happened in Chloe's head a split second before it happened in real time. And this time Chloe had time to react.

She grabbed Mikey's arm. Chloe stopped him before he could knock over the beaker.

"I'm fine, dude," she said. "Just spacing out."

Except Chloe was doing the exact opposite. Chloe's head was a mess. It was a mystery how she could still think straight. _Keep it together, Price._

That girl wasn't dead yet. _That girl wasn't dead yet._ Chloe could stop it from happening. She could save a life. She could be a hero. Chloe still didn't know what the fuck was going on, but she also wasn't going to let someone die. Not if she could save them.

_Shit._ Was that really Max? It couldn't have been. There was no way. But those eyes. That face. Chloe would have recognized it from across a football field.

She saw Max get shot. She saw her _die._ And now Chloe was the only one who could change it. She _had_ to change it. Forget all that other shit. Forget the past. Chloe couldn't let Max Caulfield just die in a bathroom. She at least owed her that much.

Chloe considered telling Mikey. But he wouldn't believe her. Steph and Mikey would think she'd finally lost it. Too much huffing chemicals and grinding the rails. They'd want to know if she'd slipped and smacked her head again. Maybe she _did_ crack her head. That would explain a few things, like how she could suddenly _control time and space._

"Whoa," said Mikey.

Chloe reached up, dragging the back of her hand across her upper lip. _Blood._ The nosebleed. That was how all this started, wasn't it? That bizzaro nosebleed out of nowhere. That was what forced Chloe out of class and into that bathroom.

She raised her hand to grab Ms. Holt's attention.

Ms. Holt had just finished mopping up what remained of Brooke's failed experiment. But she raised her head when Chloe's hand shot up, her attention snatched.

Chloe's heart thump-thump-thumped away like a bass drum. _Fuck._ This wasn't the time for her to get all flustered under Ms. Holt's stare. Some things were more important than hot science ladies. And that wasn't something Chloe would have normally said.

"Uh, Ms. Holt?" said Chloe. "Can I go to the bathroom?"

Ms. Holt chuckled.

"Nice try, Chloe," she said. "But you're not getting out of this one. Finish your work and then we can talk."

Chloe dropped her hand. _Shit._ Of course Ms. Holt wasn't buying that. Chloe had used that excuse at least five times over the past week. And Ms. Holt had fallen for it pretty much every time. Excuse-wise, Chloe was shit out of luck.

She clenched her teeth. _Dammit. Now what?_

Chloe looked around. She didn't have time to think of something else. Max could be dead by the time Chloe actually came up with something. But Chloe also didn't have time to stand around and wait for class to end. Same end result: Max bleeding out on the bathroom floor. _Time._ Chloe needed time.

She raised her hand, palm spread out wide. Fortunately, she _had_ time. All the time in the world.

She almost thought it wasn't going to work again. The universe giveth, the universe taketh away. But to Chloe's relief, the universe had suspended its efforts to screw her over.

It actually _worked._ Chloe felt it working before the thought had even left her head. She could feel time warping and spinning. Chloe spun back those precious minutes she spent being an idiot.

Chloe glanced at her hand. It was like a reset button. An instant replay. _Awesome._ Chloe always wanted one of those. There were so many moments in her life that needed a do-over.

She sprinted away from her work station. There was no time to waste, no time to ask Ms. Holt if she could leave. Because Chloe already knew the answer. She knew exactly how this went down.

Chloe ignored Ms. Holt, ignored everyone who was staring at her. They had to be used to Chloe walking out. But usually she had an excuse. This was the first time Chloe just bailed before class was over.

She slammed the classroom door behind her. There was going to be hell to pay, but Chloe didn't give a fuck. This was more important than some dumb experiment. Chloe already knew all of that stuff. But saving a life? That was new to her.

She hurried to the bathroom. Chloe didn't bother waving at Samuel or touching the lockers. She just booked it, running across the hallway. There wasn't anyone or anything she hadn't already seen the first time.

Chloe shoved the bathroom door open, her heart hammering in her chest.

The bathroom was empty. But of course it was. Nathan and Max weren't due for a few more minutes. Maybe she was jumping the gun on this? But Chloe needed some time to get her thoughts together. She needed to know what to do.

Chloe retraced her steps. She did it all again, ending with the graffiti and the butterfly. Chloe had seen enough time travel movies to know the deal. If she didn't recreate everything perfectly, something would go wrong. The last thing Chloe needed was another variable. She knew that saying about butterflies and wings and storms. Chloe really didn't need a storm right now.

She listened as it happened again. She heard Nathan come in, heard him talking to himself. Her stomach tightened at the sound of his babbling.

The other person--Max--came in after Nathan. This time Chloe actually peeked before things started to go down. She wanted to get a good look. She needed to be sure.

Chloe's heart skipped a beat. She was right. _Holy shit._ It was Max. Sure, the hair was different and the tattoos on Max’s arms were new. But Chloe knew that face. She'd grown up looking at it almost every morning. Sleepovers in Chloe's bed. Birthdays. All those wonderful things that ground to a halt after that _stuff_ happened.

"You're such a nosy fucking bitch," Nathan was saying.

_Shit._ Chloe got too caught up in her thoughts. She forgot what she was doing. And--surprise, surprise--she had _no plan._ _FUCK._

She looked around frantically. There had to be something there. Something Chloe could use to stop this from happening again. _There had to be._ _Think, Price. Use that big bran._

Chloe zeroed in on the fire alarm. Chloe didn't _want_ to do it. But desperate times, right? Chloe was sure that anyone else would have done the exact thing she was thinking.

She grabbed at the glass, pounding her fist against it like she could shatter it with her bare hand. Of course it was locked. And there was no way for Chloe to just pry it open. She needed something. A hammer or a mallet or something.

Chloe didn't see either of those, but there had to be one around there somewhere. Or at least something else she could use.

The gunshot went off in Chloe's ears. She pitched forward like she'd been slapped, almost falling against the useless glass protecting the alarm. _No. NO NO NO._ This _was not_ happening again. Not if Chloe had anything to say about it.

But what could she do? She had no idea where the hammer was. And from confrontation to gunshot, Chloe didn't have a lot of time. Chloe needed to know what she was doing. She could pull this off. She had to be able to. _You've got this, Price._

Chloe tried not to hear everything going in the bathroom. She tried not to hear Nathan freaking out. Chloe had bigger things to think about. Time travel things.

She clutched the strap of her bag. Chloe couldn't be a hundred percent sure, but she was pretty confident that nothing on her--like her phone--were affected by the rewind. Her clothes, everything in her bag, etc. Everything stayed in place except the world around her. But did that go for everything she had on her?

Dropping her gaze to the floor, Chloe made the only move she hadn't tried: she shoved the janitor's cart aside. It was pretty much the only thing she hadn't touched. And it moved easily on its wheels.

_Jackpot._ The hammer was under the cart. It was just lying there, free for the taking. Chloe bent over and snatched it from the floor, her heart beating like crazy as she held it. It was completely insane that Max's life was depending on a fucking _hammer._

Chloe tucked the hammer into her bag. _Here goes everything._

She raised her hand. _Rewind, rinse, repeat._ To make sure Max was alright, to save a life, to maybe do something right for once in her life.

As the world faded in again, Chloe didn't wait. She didn't wait to hear Nathan and Max talking, didn't wait to hear the gunshot. _Use your second chance, Price. USE IT._

For a split second, she thought the hammer was going to bounce off. She thought the glass just wouldn't break. Maybe the universe was playing a cruel joke on her. Tricking Chloe into thinking she could fix her problems. Tricking her into thinking she could make up for all the shitty things she'd done.

But the hammer went right through the glass. It shattered, raining shards all over the bathroom floor.

Chloe slammed her palm into the alarm. She heard the alarm blaring. She heard it bleating out through the hallways.

Nathan looked up in surprise, his grip on the gun loosening.

"What the hell?" he said.

Max shoved him away. The shove was hard enough to knock Nathan to the floor. He flew off his feet and hit the tiles, his gun flying out of his hand and sliding a few inches.

Max opened the door and disappeared into the hallway. She gave Nathan one last look before she left. A part of her probably thought she should stay and help him up, but the more reasonable part knew she needed to get the fuck out of there. Max needed to bail while everyone was distracted by the alarm.

Nathan left after her, muttering about his bad luck. He grabbed his gun on his way out.

Alone at last, Chloe stepped out from her hiding place. She grabbed her chest with both hands, her breathing coming out in bursts. _What the fuck is going on?_

"Max," said Chloe.

She reached forward, but Max was already gone. Chloe was alone.


	2. The Girls' Dorm

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've always theorized that Chloe is actually a lot smarter than Max, but there is a distinct difference in ambition/personality. In this AU, Chloe had been given a better environment and parental encouragement (mostly from William) for her love of science.

This wasn't scientifically possible. None of this was even remotely scientifically possible. Time travel? People didn't _have_ those powers. And last Chloe checked, she hadn't been bitten by a radioactive spider or caught in a lab explosion. So what the fuck was happening?

She had to pause and catch her breath for a minute. It wasn't every day that some random girl from Blackwell realized she was a superhero. Chloe was pretty sure that stuff only happened in movies. It definitely didn't happen in Arcadia Bay to total slackers like Chloe Elizabeth Price.

Chloe shoved open the bathroom door and ran out into the hallway. She needed to get the hell out of there so she could think. Now that she'd seen someone get shot, that bathroom actually felt evil. _Do. Not. Freak. Out. Price. Don’t freak out._

This didn't feel like science. This felt like something _beyond_ science. But nothing was beyond science, right? That just meant chemistry and math couldn't explain it _yet._ Chloe was on the edge of something new and awesome, something no other human being on the planet had ever seen before. And maybe after she finished geeking out, she might figure out what the heck that was.

The alarm still screaming in her ears, Chloe almost plowed right into a familiar campus security uniform.

She stumbled back with her hands up, like she thought he might pull a baton on her or something. Too bad Chloe's new superpower didn't allow her to kick David Madsen's ass. She would have traded her awesome science fair ribbon for some classic super strength or laser vision. That dildo with a pornstache totally deserved a beatdown for being, well, the biggest asshole at Blackwell.

"Don't you hear that fire alarm?" said David. "You need to be outside, young lady."

Chloe rolled her eyes. _Young lady? Really, Dickhead?_ She was eighteen. But of course that asswipe didn't care.

"I'm _going,_ David," said Chloe. "I got freaked out by the alarm, okay? Geez, man."

David gave her an angry frown. Chloe really didn't get his deal. Why was he always coming down on _her?_ Why not Brooke or Nathan or Victoria Chase? The _real troublemakers_?

"You don't think I know what you're up to?" said David. "You think I don't see everything?"

Chloe took stock of all the bad shit she'd done that day. Other than running out of class, she hadn't done anything to get on David's list. So why was he hassling her? There was no way David knew she tripped the alarm, right? Or about any of the other stuff that went down? _No way. No fucking way._

"Suck a fuck, David,” Chloe said.

Before David could get on Chloe's case about her language, Principal Wells spoke from in front of his office. Perfect timing. Chloe was about to consider punching David--finally--and then rewinding so she could do it again. That was one way to get stuck in a voluntary time loop.

"Thank you, Mr. Madsen," said Principal Wells. "Why don't you go turn off that alarm?"

David shot Chloe one last threatening look.

Chloe hated how David walked around like he owned the place. That asshole totally got off on hassling students. It was so pathetic and sad. Well, now Chloe knew something he didn't know. David needed to watch out. Revenge was a dish best served with a side of clams.

She flipped him off. Chloe did it subtly, making sure the principal didn't see.

David wasn't even shocked. He just shook his head and walked away, mumbling about how the students didn't respect his service. Chloe almost felt bad about being a dick. _Almost._ In her defense, David started it.

About two minutes later, the alarm stopped. David must have flipped the switch. Sweet wonderful silence.

Now that the alarm wasn't bawling, Chloe could finally think. Class was over, everyone was outside, and David was off doing David stuff. There was nothing keeping her in the building. Chloe needed to get to her dorm room. She needed to think about all of this.

She tried to rush past the principal, but he called out to her. Chloe considered ignoring him. She had better things to do than getting yelled at for ditching class. Who cared if Principal Wells was pissed at her? He was _always_ pissed at her. So what else was new?

_But._ There was always her scholarship. That precious little thing keeping her at Blackwell. Her mom would be furious if Chloe got kicked out. She knew Wells hated her guts and wanted her out of there. Chloe couldn't give him an excuse to flush her scholarship down the toilet. And if things went super bad, Chloe could always rewind and try something else.

It was the last part that convinced her. An instant do-over? _Hell yes._ Chloe needed five of those yesterday.

She walked over to Principal Wells. Chloe could tell he was ready to lecture her, but he was trying to give off friendly authority figure vibes. _Oh blow me._ Did anyone actually fall for that shit?

"You seem stressed," said Principal Wells. "Do you need to talk about anything? If not to me, maybe one of your teachers? Ms. Holt?"

Chloe almost laughed in his face. _Oh, yeah sure._ Ms. Holt would _love_ this. _"Hey, Ms. Holt. So you know how I got a nosebleed in your class? Well, it turns out I've got freaky time powers now! Oh, and by the way, totally not crazy!"_

"Or Mr. Jefferson?" Principal Wells said.

Chloe struggled not to roll her eyes. Mark Jefferson? Really? The photography teacher? Chloe knew he was some kind of big-shot photographer from New York or something. Apparently he was a big deal. And half the girls and guys at Blackwell wanted to bang his brains out. But Chloe wasn't into any of that and she honestly didn't get it. He seemed like such a poser.

"Nah, I'm good," said Chloe. "Just one of those days, you know?"

Principal Wells didn't look convinced.

"You know you can tell me anything, Chloe," he said. "I know you must be scared and confused, what with the missing girl and everything."

Chloe rubbed the back of her neck. _Anything, huh? Yeah, right._ And what did any of this have to do with Rachel Amber?

"I'm fine," said Chloe. "You know me, Wells. Don't worry, be happy."

She almost said "Don't worry, smoke weed", but she stopped herself. That probably wouldn't have gone over too well with the principal of Blackwell. Chloe didn't get the teachers and their obsession with weed. There were worse drugs floating around the Blackwell campus.

Principal Wells clearly didn't buy that.

"Or have you done something wrong?" said Principal Wells. "If you have, just know that you won't get in trouble if you tell me what you're hiding. I promise I won't be mad."

Chloe sighed. _Fuck._ This guy wasn't going to stop, was he? He was just going to keep hassling her until she told him the truth. Not that he was going to believe a word of it. The Prescotts practically owned Blackwell. And Chloe was just some delinquent science nerd.

"It's nothing," said Chloe. "I'm hiding zero things."

Principal Wells folded his arms and frowned at her. He’d pretty much been out to get her since her first day and Chloe wasn't even sure why. Did he just not like her attitude? Did he hate how she slacked off? Was he resentful that Chloe wasn't more like Victoria or the other trolls in the Vortex Club? What exactly did he want from Chloe?

"We both know that's a lie, Ms. Price," said Principal Wells. "You think I don't know what goes on at this school?"

Chloe wasn't sure what messed up shit he was accusing her of, but she didn't like it.

"Dude, get off my crack," said Chloe. "If you wanna see my shit so badly, just search my dorm room and stop being such a fuck-ass. Or maybe sic your goons on me?”

Principal Wells looked surprised at her hostility. But what did he expect? It had been less than a month and Chloe was already sick of him.

"I have _never_ conducted an unauthorized search of a student’s room," said Wells. "And I assume by goons, you mean Mr. Madsen? Misguided as he may be, he is only doing his job. And his job is keeping you safe."

Chloe's temper was flaring. Fortunately, the hallway was still totally empty. Even Samuel was gone. Chloe didn't need an audience for her little meltdown.

"Keeping me safe?" she said. "Wow. Great job, Wells. You've got how many missing students? Not to mention kids dealing drugs right under your nose. Give me a fucking break."

The principal's voice rose, cutting across whatever else Chloe was about to say.

"That's enough!" he said. "I'm sure your parents will be very interested to hear about your behavior, Ms. Price. Especially your disregard for my rules."

Chloe stepped back. She could feel the ripples of her decision going right through her body like a current. _Shit._ She hated the idea of her parents getting a call from the principal. Her dad was already worried about her being alone in Arcadia Bay. He didn't even want her to go to Blackwell. Chloe's dad only gave in because she promised everything would be okay. Now Chloe's scholarship was hanging in the balance and her parents were going to freak the fuck out.

Wow, that conversation could have gone better. But in Chloe's defense, that principal was totally out to get her. He wasn't going to take anything Chloe said seriously. So what was her play here?

Chloe hit the reset button. Nope, she did _not_ like that at all. She needed to do better. She _could_ do better. There had to be some way to salvage this.

He wasn't going to believe her about Nathan Prescott. Principal Wells was always going to choose a lie over the inconvenient truth. That was just how it was at Blackwell. Nathan and his Vortex Club assholes got away with everything and Chloe got reamed over every little mistake.

But _screw it._ If Chloe didn't tell him something, he was just going to come down on her even harder. Wells probably thought she was a drug mule or something.

"Okay, fine," said Chloe. "You wanna know so badly?"

She folded her arms. Time to go down in flames.

"I just saw that psycho Nathan Prescott with a gun," said Chloe. "There, you happy? Nathan Prescott was waving around a fucking gun in the girls' bathroom."

Principal Wells furrowed his brow at her.

"This is a serious accusation," he said. "Are you sure?"

Of course not. But Chloe could always double back and try a third thing. If there even was a third thing, which she doubted. She was stuck between those two equally shitty options. Chloe just hoped one of them was less shitty than the other.

"Yeah," said Chloe. "He was waving a gun around and talking to himself. He looked totally unhinged. He--he scared me."

She frowned. _Um, wow._ Chloe didn't even realize it until she said it out loud. Back in the bathroom, she'd been running on pure adrenaline. Seeing Max get shot again, rewinding, hitting the alarm, bailing. It happened so fast. Chloe was still wrapping her head around her rewind and how it had saved Max's ass. But Chloe really had been scared out of her mind. _Get over it, Price. It’s...it’s over, right? It’s over._

Chloe stood there for a few seconds, staring into space. She could still see the gun. She could see the manic look on Nathan's face. She could still see Max pressed up against that wall with a gun jabbed into her guts. She could still see the blood pooling out of Max's chest.

"Ms. Price?" said Wells.

Chloe fell back into reality. _Get it together, Price._ Max was alive. Chloe felt awesome. Everything was fine. _Take a breath. Just take a breath._

"And then he left," said Chloe. "Aren't guns, like, super against the rules?"

Wells clasped his hands behind his back. Chloe had a feeling she wasn't going to like what came next.

"I find this very hard to believe," he said.

Chloe sighed. _Yep. Called it._ And she actually thought--for just a brief second--that he _might_ actually do something, that he might step up for once and do his job. _Nope._ Principal Wells was still an academic drone with an agenda. _Fuck. This. School._

"Oh yeah?" said Chloe. "Well, it's true. Just ask Nathan. Why don't you hassle him or the Vortex Club for a change instead of me?"

She'd been waiting for the Vortex Club to get busted. The longer Chloe was at Blackwell, the less likely it seemed like that was going to happen. Those assholes got away with all kinds of stuff. And the principal let them put up posters about their stupid parties.

"I'll look into it," said Wells.

Chloe turned away from him and waved. _Yeah, I bet._ There was no way Principal Wells was going to investigate star student Nathan Prescott. The Prescotts had too much of a reputation. Wells wasn't going to risk losing Sean Prescott's bottomless wallet over an accusation. Should Chloe just rewind and stick with her original answer?

_Nope._ At least she gave Wells something to follow up on so he wouldn't pull the plug on her scholarship. And who knows? Maybe he would actually talk to Nathan and that little weasel would end up confessing. One less scary asshole at Blackwell.

Chloe pushed through the front doors and stepped onto the main campus.

From the steps, she could see the fountain, a bunch of students walking around, and tons of leaves. Chloe was going to miss autumn when it was over. Fall in Oregon was probably one of her favorite seasons. And Halloween was the best holiday. If she could have skipped Christmas and just celebrated scary shit all year round, she would have done that in a heartbeat. Unfortunately, Chloe's rewind could only go so far.

First things first: Chloe needed to head back to her dorm room and charge her phone. She probably had a million texts from all of her friends. And her parents probably wanted to talk to her about her recent birthday.

Finally eighteen years old. Chloe felt pretty indifferent. Yeah, she was an adult now and that was awesome. But that didn't really change anything. She was still the same old Chloe Price. Well, _mostly_ the same. The superpower was definitely new. Not exactly the cool post-birthday surprise Chloe was expecting, but some might say it was even better than a one hundred dollar gift card and a box of caramel cookies.

Chloe heard Principal Wells' voice over the loudspeaker. _"Would Nathan Prescott please meet me in the principal's office?"_

Chloe started down the stairs. There was no way the principal was going to tell Nathan it was her, right? That had to be against some kind of rule. Something about anonymous tips and student-principal confidentiality. Principal Wells was a dick, but he was a total stickler for rules.

_Who the fuck cares? You have your rewind. You'll be fine._ Chloe kept forgetting that she wasn't just a normal eighteen-year-old anymore. She could control space and time. That was a pretty big advantage over people like Nathan Prescott. Money could buy almost everything, but probably not the ability to alter time itself.

She spotted a familiar face near the steps. Chloe almost didn't approach because she didn't want to get trapped in a conversation. But just asking probably couldn't hurt. And she really wanted to know why Mark Jefferson was standing around outside school.

Chloe grinned. _Holy crap._ Mr. Jefferson looked even more hipster than usual. Those glasses, that suit, just the way he was standing. And people thought _Chloe_ was a hipster? She had nothing on Mark Jefferson, leader of the hipster revolution. But Chloe wasn't fooled. She knew he was just as out of touch as all the other thirty-somethings.

She approached him, readjusting the strap on her bag. Chloe felt like she'd been lugging that bag around for a thousand years.

"Hey, teach," she said. "Surveying your domain?"

Mr. Jefferson smiled at her. He looked almost exactly like one of those stuck-up New York artists. Mr. Jefferson was actually a pretty cool guy. Chloe had no idea why he was working at Blackwell. There had to be better offers on the table. Why would anyone choose to work in a hick town like Arcadia Bay at a garbage art school run by a bag of dicks?

"Nice to see you, Chloe," said Mr. Jefferson. "You look well."

Chloe almost laughed in relief. _Finally._ Someone who didn't assume she was up to something. Why couldn't more people at Blackwell be like Mr. Jefferson?

"I try," said Chloe.

Mr. Jefferson laughed. Chloe had to admit that he was slightly charming in a dumb hipster teacher kind of way. Given how most of the people at Blackwell treated Chloe, it was a low bar.

"If you must know, I'm meeting Ashley Holt," said Mr. Jefferson. "She wants to talk about that petition she's trying to push through."

Chloe felt a pang of jealousy. Hanging out with Ms. Holt? _Lucky._ The perks of being a good-looking photographer in Arcadia Bay. Any guy halfway interesting more than deserved a chance. The dating pool in Arcadia Bay was unbearably shallow. Chloe should know.

"Awesome," said Chloe. "What petition?"

Mr. Jefferson folded his arms.

"It's about the security cameras," he said. "It seems Mr. Madsen believes our campus would be better off as a high-security prison. Quite frankly, I think it's bullshit. Cameras aren't going to help find a missing girl."

Chloe rolled her eyes. _Of fucking course._ _David._ That guy was on a never-ending power trip. And Wells seemed to love enabling David's paranoia for some reason. Seriously? Cameras all over the campus? Chloe was willing to bet that this had nothing to do with Rachel Amber. David was just looking for another excuse to harass students.

Mr. Jefferson smiled at her.

"I take it we're on the same page?" he said.

Chloe laughed. The thought of Ms. Holt and Mr. Jefferson taking David down was almost too good.

"Fuck yes," said Chloe. "Like that shithead needs an excuse to get on my case."

Mr. Jefferson nodded at Chloe as she walked away. He seemed happy that he’d talked to her.

Chloe waved at him. It was nice to know that some people at Blackwell didn't hate her guts or think she was just some punk kid.

She spotted Justin shredding some rails with his skater buddies. Chloe wanted to join them, but she had dorm stuff to do. It had been ages since Chloe picked up her board. She was due a nice long skating session. Justin and Trevor were probably up for it.

Chloe left the courtyard and headed to the girls' dormitory.

There were people hanging out outside the dormitory. Chloe spotted two of the football bros right off the bat.

She steered clear of the football guys. Chloe didn't get how some girls went nuts over jocks. Some of them were okay, but it had to get old sometimes. Bigfootball was just so fucking boring. What was so fun and cool about tossing a ball back and forth? Chloe would rather science. At least science had cool explosions.

Steph and Mikey were hanging out on a bench. They seemed to be deeply engrossed in the stack of comic books Mikey had in his lap.

Chloe grinned. Mikey was such a classic nerd. Chloe used to think she was the geekiest geek at Blackwell. That was until she met Mikey. He was like all the nerd stereotypes rolled into one. Chloe was in awe at the sheer confidence required to be that nerdy at Blackwell. Chloe needed to hang out with him and Steph more often. They were maybe the only truly cool people at Blackwell.

But not now. It was dorm room time.

She sprinted over to the steps, passing right by Mikey and Steph. Neither of them looked up as Chloe sped past them. Ever since she came to Blackwell, Chloe sort of wished she could be invisible. Invisible like, well, Max would have been. Immune to all the shitty teen drama. Maybe her freaky time powers were exactly what she needed. It was going to be way easier to fly under the radar if Chloe could bend space and time.

Chloe almost plowed right into Samantha Myers. Samantha was sitting on the steps, her legs up against her chest and her arms hooked together over her knees. She had her head down in that particular Samantha way that instantly made Chloe feel like the biggest dick at Blackwell.

Chloe stumbled back from the bottom step, throwing up her hands in apology.

"My bad," said Chloe.

Samantha raised her head. It was really difficult to have an opinion on Samantha. She was small, mousy, wiry and probably a bundle of nerves. Samantha was the least Blackwell person Chloe had ever met. What was someone like her doing in this hellhole? Didn't the stench of ego get to her sometimes?

"Oh, hey," she said.

She didn't look like her usual confused-and-awkward-but-happy Samantha self. This was maybe the fifth or sixth time Chloe had noticed that this week. Samantha just seemed way more depressed than usual, like she was dealing with a bunch of crap. Chloe hadn't asked because, well, why should she care? There was always drama dropping at Blackwell. The less she got pulled in, the better for everyone. But this was _Samantha._ Samantha, the girl who spent ninety-percent of her time sitting under a tree and reading. She never bothered anyone.

"E-Everything okay?" said Chloe.

She hated getting involved, but...it was fucking _Samantha Myers._ Chloe was curious about who--or what--was bothering her. Half the students at Blackwell probably didn't even know Samantha existed. Samantha could have attracted bullies like flies to honey, but even that was beyond her range. She was just too invisible.

"No," said Samantha.

Classic Samantha. She didn't even try to hide how upset she was. Chloe admired her for being so upfront about her feelings. So many people at Blackwell pretended they were these super sophisticated adults when they were actually just kids playing dress-up. Chloe definitely didn't feel any different from seventeen to eighteen, so why would anyone else?

Even though she was in a hurry, Chloe decided to press. She needed to know what was going on with Samantha. And, well, Samantha was blocking the steps.

"What's up?" said Chloe. "Dickhead Victoria giving you a hard time? Just say the word and she's buried in a shallow grave at the junkyard."

Samantha snapped her head up, a concerned look on her face.

"Oh, no," she said. "No no no! Victoria didn't--I mean, she did, but..."

Chloe folded her arms. _Called it. Only that bitch Vicky would mess with Samantha._

Samantha stammered and stuttered for a few seconds. She was clearly trying to not blame Victoria for something that was Victoria's fault. Chloe didn't get why Samantha was all buddy-buddy protective of one of the worst people at Blackwell. Or maybe Samantha was just scared shitless of Victoria and Nathan? That was dumb. Those two were all bark and zero bite.

_Uh, did you NOT see Nathan waving around a fucking gun? Did you NOT see that crazy fucker kill someone? Yeah, it was in an alternate reality. Still counts, genius._

Chloe frowned. _Fuck._ She never even thought of that. If Nathan was packing heat, Victoria had to know. Or were both those assholes armed and dangerous? This day just kept getting worse and worse. Chloe really needed to start watching her back now.

Samantha swept a strand of hair out of her face.

"Did you get my messages?" she said.

Chloe stretched and rubbed the back of her neck. She was getting a little antsy just standing there and talking. But more importantly, _oh shit._ She totally forgot that she gave Samantha her number. She didn't even remember when she did that. A few days ago? If only she _remembered to charge her fucking phone._ And if only she didn't keep letting her messages pile up. Chloe was pretty good with replying, but only with her parents and maybe Steph and Mikey.

"Um, yeah, totally," Chloe lied.

Samantha wasn't looking at Chloe's face. If she had been, she probably would have sniffed out the bullshit.

"Oh, okay," said Samantha. "I thought since you didn't reply..."

Chloe tried to smile. _Wow, thanks, universe. You let me save a girl and now you're making me feel like a total dick. Ugh. I get it. I'm a shitty friend. Can we play something else?_

"Hey, I always have time for you," said Chloe. "You're, like, the only not-shitty person at Blackwell."

Samantha smiled a little at the very _Chloe_ compliment. She needed to savor it. Being told she wasn't shitty by Chloe Price was one of Blackwell's highest honors.

"Thanks," said Samantha. "You're not as bitchy as everyone says you are."

She quickly raised her head, aiming her gaze at Chloe's collarbone rather than at her face. Samantha was the queen of not making eye contact. Chloe used to think it was because Samantha was intimidated by her. But Samantha was like that with everyone.

"I-I'm sorry," said Samantha. "No one says that. I don't know why I said that. I guess I'm a little weird today."

A little weird _today?_ Try _a lot of weird every day._ But Chloe sort of liked that. At least Samantha seemed more like a real person than most Arcadia Bay hicks. Steph and Mikey were roughly in that category too.

Samantha started wringing her hands, clumsily jumping to another subject. She probably thought she'd offended Chloe or something. But with the insane day Chloe was having, Samantha would have had to try way harder than that to actually piss off Chloe Price.

"Hey Chloe, can I ask you something?" she said.

If it got Samantha away from the steps, sure.

"Shoot," said Chloe.

Samantha shifted uncomfortably. She really did remind Chloe of Max. The Max Chloe remembered really sucked at talking to people. Max was a total wimp about confrontation. Chloe had never been like that and she didn't get how anyone could be in Arcadia Bay.

"I want to talk to my friend about something," said Samantha. "But I don't know how. Should I just drop it?"

Chloe raised an eyebrow. _Wow._ Was Samantha Myers asking _her_ for advice? She must have been desperate. Was Chloe really Samantha's only real friend at Blackwell? Or at least the only friend she could come to with stuff like this? That was super sad. Chloe was a low bar.

"You're asking me?" she said. "I'm sorry, but you're screwed. I mean, asking the school fuck-up for friendship advice? You'd be better off talking to one of the football bros. Sorry."

Samantha hung her head. She wasn't smiling. Samantha must have realized that Chloe was totally right. Asking Chloe Price for advice meant she was shit out of luck.

"Yeah," said Samantha. "I don't know what I was thinking."

She glanced at the door behind her.

"Guess I'm in your way," she said. "Sorry."

Samantha scooted to the side.

Chloe almost sighed in relief. _Fuck yes. Steps cleared! Score one for Team Price._

Now all she needed to do was go to her room, charge her phone, and figure out what she was going to do with her freaky time powers. Oh, and call Max for the first time in forever. And maybe solve the secrets of the wider universe while she was at it? One step at a time.

She just needed a name. Time Girl? Rewindo? Timewoman? Do-Over Girl? Redo? Redowoman? Right Price? Chaos Theory? Ooooh, good one. "Chaos Theory". Sounded boss as fuck. Chloe needed to get that one on a T-shirt.

She started to race up the steps, but Chloe stopped. She was getting that heavy feeling in her stomach. And Chloe didn't _want_ that heavy feeling. She wanted to go to her room and finally give this bizarro day a rest. Why was that so hard? What was holding her back?

Samantha didn't even notice Chloe staring at her. Samantha was off in her sad little world. Her words bounced all around Chloe's skull, getting louder every time they hit a wall and flew off. Chloe kept coming back to the thing Samantha said about the messages and Chloe not replying. _Dammit. Great job, Price. Samantha needed you and--surprise, surprise--you treated her like shit. You need to do better, idiot. Remember Max?_

Chloe grabbed at the her hoodie, caught off guard by how deeply she'd just gone in on herself. Over _Samantha._ What the fuck was happening to her today? _That wasn't my fault, you son of a bitch. This has nothing to do with Max._

But it did. Every time Chloe acted like an asshole to someone she called a "friend", it was about Max. Every time she ignored someone's messages, it was about Max. Every time she disregarded someone's feelings, it was about Max.

Too bad Chloe couldn't just rewind time and make it up to....oh wait. She totally could. _Do-over!_

Reset button pressed.

"Should I just drop it?" said Samantha.

Chloe tried not to grin. _Holy fuck._ This power got cooler and cooler the more times she used it. And yet she never got used to having complete control over space and time. Sure, maybe it wouldn’t last forever. But as long as she had it, why not use it?

"Fuck no," said Chloe. "You need to grab life by the balls, Samantha. No more hiding, no more letting assholes push you around. Get right up in their face and tell them you're not screwing around anymore. Tell them you need to talk about this shit. And they're not much of a friend f they don't take you seriously."

Samantha blinked, surprised. It had probably never occurred to her that she shouldn't let anyone push her around. She also didn't expect Chloe to get so passionate about her problems.

Chloe didn't usually try to be a people-pleaser, but _damn._ She loved the way Samantha lit up at her advice. Chloe didn't even think it was _good_ advice. It sounded way too generic. But it seemed to work, so whatever.

"You're right," said Samantha. "Th-Thanks, Chloe. You really are the best friend I could ask for."

Chloe was flattered. Wow, Samantha actually considered her a "best friend"? Chloe had barely talked to her--and replied to zero of her messages--since they met. But strangely, Chloe was totally okay with Samantha saying that. It made Chloe feel all fuzzy inside, like she'd done her good deed for the year.

"You know it," said Chloe.

Samantha glanced at the door behind her.

"Oops," she said. "I'm totally in your way, aren't I? My bad. I'll move."

She scooted aside, a big happy smile on her face.

Chloe felt the slightest little twinge of doubt in her chest. Should she really have gotten involved? It was none of her business. And didn't Chloe constantly remind herself that Blackwell drama was dumb? If Chloe wanted to keep the drama clutter out of her life, she needed to step back. Should she rewind and go with her original answer? Should she just stay out of it? After all, chaos theory. Chloe had no idea what she'd signed up for.

_Fuck it._ Chaos theory? Really? With all the messing with space and time Chloe was doing, worrying about chaos theory seemed really dumb. She'd already altered the course of a dozen lives just by saving Max in that bathroom. So why not alter a little more?

She could feel the ripples of every decision she was making. Chloe just couldn't see exactly where those ripples were pointing.


	3. The Parking Lot

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> CW: Brief mentions of sexual assault (if you've played the original game, you know what I'm talking about)

A few minutes later, Chloe passed the dry erase board next to her door and entered her room. She thought the dry erase board was all kinds of stupid, but it was also kind of fun. Hers was rocking an anarchy symbol and a middle finger. The middle finger was courtesy of Justin, who'd also scrawled "Skate On, Bro!" and a little heart at the bottom. Justin was such a dork.

The room was a standard box. Chloe remembered how she freaked out over getting her own room at Blackwell. But the room was smaller than her bedroom at home and way messier. The second thing was entirely her fault. Blackwell students got a ton of perks, but a personal cleaning service wasn't one of them.

Chloe plugged her phone into the wall charger. It felt like ages since Chloe charged her phone. She probably had a million unread messages from all of her contacts.

She sat down to read through all of her recent messages. Chloe knew her buddies were used to it, but it still sucked that she was so bad about replying. Her friends deserved better than that. They deserved better than _her._ Especially Max.

Samantha had sent her a bunch of messages over the last two days. And of course Chloe hadn't responded to a single one. _Fuck._ Was she ever going to stop feeling like a total dick? At least she patched some stuff up by giving Samantha advice. That had to count for something.

And of course Mikey had been blowing up her phone. The guy was like a lovesick puppy. If he wasn't texting Chloe, he was probably texting someone else _about_ Chloe. But at least him and Steph were always there to talk, right? And that was what Chloe needed a lot of the time.

**2:24 Hey, you up? Need help w/ the chem homework.**

**2:26 Never mind. You're busy. It's cool.**

**12:05 Yo. I scored tickets to that show. Saturday. You up for it? If not, can we just hang out? Got some stuff I wanna talk about.**

**12:08 I know you're reading these. Seriously.**

**12:10 Charge your phone, Chloe.**

**12:11 Sigh.**

**12:30 You wanna go that coffee place after school w/Steph? notadate lol**

**2:20 Coffee? Me? Steph? After school? Y/N?**

**3:05 Hey, what happened to you in class? You okay? Talk over coffee?**

Chloe rubbed her forehead. _Oh shit._ Coffee with Mikey and Steph. Of course she totally forgot. They talked about it before chemistry. _Ugh._ Some _friend_ she was. Chloe didn't even want to blow Steph and Mikey off like that. She actually wanted to get coffee with then and talk about all the insane stuff that had happened to her. _Dude, what? You can't tell Steph and Mikey about this. You can't tell anyone. They'll think you're nuts._

Good point. No one needed to know Chloe had freaky time powers. Bur Steph and Mikey had been such awesome friends—minus the whole “Mikey obviously having a crush on her” thing--since she came to Blackwell. Chloe thought they deserved an explanation for her recent freak-out in class. _Get real, Price. You think Steph and Mikey would tell YOU if either of them had freaky time powers?_

Actually, they probably would. Not telling your friends about your freaky time powers had to be against the Geek Code. But that was just it: Steph and Mikey were total science nerds. And if either of them told Chloe they could control time? She would have thought they’d lost it. Because none of that was scientifically possible. The fact that Mikey and Steph were probably the coolest people at Blackwell didn’t even matter.

Chloe jumped off her bed and turned on some music. She needed to get out of her own head and music always helped with that. It wasn't exactly soothing, but “Like a Star” by Mike Krol was one of her favorites. The Vortex Club was really missing out. Chloe doubted any of those Vortex dicks listened to awesome music at their dumb parties.

She hopped over to her computer. Probably about time Chloe emptied her inbox.

There was an e-mail from Principal Wells talking about infractions and consequences and _blah blah blah._ That guy was like a broken record. Didn't he have anything else to say? The whole "You're in trouble Chloe" shtick got old really fast. Why even bother sending Chloe a new e-mail? He should have just copied the first one and made it into a Mad Libs game. “ _Chloe, you have been accused of _____ ** _by _____. I urge you to meet me in my office so we can_** _______ this _____."_

Someone had sent Chloe a link to a video. There was no message, just the link and three words--"Vortex Club party"--in the subject line. Chloe didn't recognize the e-mail address. Who the hell sent this to her? And why had they apparently also sent it to at least twenty other people? That was a lot of e-mail addresses crammed in with Chloe's. Someone really wanted Blackwell to see this video.

Against her better judgment, Chloe clicked the link. She was no tech expert, but clicking random links was usually a guaranteed bad time.

A page opened in a new tab. It was some fringe video-sharing website that Chloe had never heard of. According to the description, the video had been posted a few days ago. That made sense. This was an old e-mail. Chloe hadn't cleared out her inbox in forever. If someone really had something they needed to say, they could send her a text.

The video was titled "Shy girl gone wild". Chloe was pretty confident that it was going to be porn. She wasn't sure why anyone would mass e-mail a random porn video, but that sounded like the exact kind of "prank" Nathan and his Vortex Club bros would come up with. All the booze and drugs had probably fried their last bran cells. And Chloe actually _liked_ drugs. Just not the stuff they probably served up at those stupid Vortex parties.

She squinted at the screen. The video quality was total shit, but Chloe was pretty sure it wasn't porn. It was clearly shot on a phone. And judging by the posters in the background and the throbbing lights, it was definitely a Vortex Club party.

_Holy shit._ Was that _Samantha?_ Samantha fucking Myers? Samantha Myers at a Vortex Club party? No way. But it definitely _looked_ like her, right down to that basic brand sweater and jeans. Samantha wasn't even dressed for a party.

The video was only about three minutes long. By minute two, Chloe realized what she was seeing. She had to start the video over from the beginning to be entirely sure, because she almost thought she was hallucinating. Seeing Samantha partying with the Vortex Club was bizarre enough. But everything else was on another level of impossible.

Samantha--sweet, shy, awkward Samantha--was making out with a bunch of guys. Full on making out with _a lot_ of very not-PG groping and tongue.

Samantha didn't look like she was having fun. She looked totally out of it, like she had no clue what was going on. And the guys were passing her around like a piece of candy, feeling her up and taking turns shoving their tongue down her throat. Chloe felt like she was going to vomit.

Chloe closed the tab. She'd glimpsed the view count on the video: over _two hundred_ people had watched it, not counting re-watches. There was no way all those views came from Blackwell. And definitely not from the Vortex Club and Chloe.

Okay, that was enough Internet for one day. Chloe felt sick to her stomach. _What the fuck?_ Why did someone send her that? Did they think it was funny? The more Chloe thought about that three-minute video, the grosser she felt about having watched the whole thing.

Did Samantha even know about the video? She had to, right? That explained why she looked so miserable. Chloe knew something was wrong, but _fuck._ This was way worse than anything Chloe could have imagined.

_Ugh._ Chloe wanted to find whoever took the video, beat the shit out of them, and then rewind so she could do it again. Over and over. Hey, maybe she could get Samantha in on it. A best friends beat-down session.

Chloe could only hope that Wells was doing his job. Someone had definitely sent him the video by now. Chloe had zero faith in Wells actually handling it. But that was what her rewind was for, right? Chloe just needed to figure out who posted the video.

She massaged her temples. _Crap._ Things were about to get real at Blackwell.

Chloe officially needed a timeout. Grab a coffee with Steph and Mikey and talk about all this messed up crap. If there was one thing Chloe could use, it was a break from Blackwell.

Chloe grabbed her phone on the way out. It wasn't fully charged, but she didn't want to leave Blackwell without it.

On her way out of the dorm, she spotted Juliet locking Dana in her room. Juliet was shouting something about Dana telling her the truth. Typical Blackwell drama. Why was everyone there such a drama queen? They were supposed to be adults. So why did everyone act like fifteen-year-olds? So dumb.

Chloe tried not to make eye contact as she hurried past. _Nope._ Not her problem. She stuck her earbuds in and pumped up the volume on “Just a Girl” by No Doubt.

She left the dorm and crossed the courtyard. If Chloe hurried, she could be there before Mikey sent his usual barrage of texts asking where she was. She must have scared the shit out of him when she just bailed like that. And now she wasn't answering his messages. _Some friend, huh?_

Chloe nibbled her bottom lip. She was _going_ to talk to Max. _Really_. She just needed some time to get a handle on everything. Her powers, the bathroom, Nathan. It had been a whole five years since they talked. Max could wait another two hours.

She was about to head for the main campus area, but Chloe stopped in her tracks. She pulled out her earbuds and lowered the volume.

David Madsen and Samantha Myers were talking to each other. Well, _David_ was talking. In typical Dickhead David fashion, he wasn't really letting Samantha say anything. He was just jabbing his finger at her, towering over her like a tree.

"You kids think you can get away with anything," said David. "But I'm not blind. I know what goes on around here. You understand me?"

Samantha was backing away from him. She looked like she was about to burst into tears, but apparently David gave zero fucks.

"I-I don't know what you're talking about," said Samantha. "I didn't do anything. It wasn't my fault. Please.."

Chloe hesitated. Her first instinct was to swoop in and save Samantha, but was that what she really wanted to do? She was already on David's shit list. Did she really want to piss him off even more? Wasn't one encounter enough for one day?

Of course it wasn't. Not for Chloe Price.

She stepped forward and snapped a picture with her phone. Chloe wasn't too good at framing shots. Max would have been furious. But it was pretty good for something she took in a hurry.

David turned sharply to look at her, his attention snatched. He must have heard the camera go off. Or maybe he'd glimpsed Chloe out of the corner of his eye.

"What do you think you're doing?" he said.

Chloe took a step back as David started marching towards her. _Shit._

"What, you gonna take my phone, man?" she said.

Judging by the look on David's face, he was going to do exactly that. That was probably against the rules, but since when did David care about rules?

It was reflex by this point. Chloe didn't even have to think. Because fuck consequences if she could get out of it. Chloe could get used to this. The ass-kickings were going to be glorious.

"You kids think you can get away with anything," said David.

Chloe checked her phone. _Awesome._ She still had the photo. So she had evidence _and_ she could deliver a beat-down to David. _Nice._

She stepped forward.

"Leave her alone, asshole," said Chloe. "She hasn't done anything to you."

Samantha instantly looked completely relieved. She wasn't normally on David's hit list. The guy was super fucking paranoid, but Samantha Myers? What reason could he possibly have to be on her case?

David turned to look at Chloe. Chloe hadn't exactly been intimidated before, but now she was even less scared of him. He was just a bully. A bully like Nathan or Victoria. And Chloe knew how to deal with bullies. She had plenty of practice. And just in case she needed more, there was always her rewind.

"This is none of your business," said David.

Chloe pointed at Samantha.

"She's my business, dickhead," said Chloe. "You wanna mess with her? Fine. But you're gonna have to mess with me too."

David looked from Samantha to Chloe, like he was considering the cost of starting shit. Chloe knew how dicks like him operated. They were great for one-on-one, but adding another variable to the mix totally screwed up their strategy. David clearly didn't want an audience.

"I will remember this conversation," he said.

Chloe grinned and waved at him. _Really, David? You're gonna remember the time you got smacked down by an eighteen-year-old? Right. Whatever you say, fuckass._

David stormed away. That probably wasn't the last Chloe was going to hear about this, but she was all out of craps to give.

_Wow._ Second time in one day that David confronted her. And he lost _again._ Chloe was feeling pumped. And why wouldn’t she? She had _The Power._ No one was going to mess with Chloe or her buddies ever again.

"Hey, Samantha," said Chloe. "You wanna get coffee with me and Steph and Mikey? He's paying."

Samantha gave Chloe a shy little smile and shook her head.

"I need to study," she said. "But thanks. It means a lot. You're the best."

She hurried away without saying anything else.

Chloe shook her head. Well, what else was she supposed to do? Let Mr. Mustache hassle Samantha when she was already going through hell? It wasn't like Chloe risked anything by stepping up. She just didn't understand why David was being so extra-asshole today. If she had to guess, it was probably connected to her rescuing Max in the bathroom and royally screwing up the timeline. _Somehow._ Weird to be inside of a reality that shouldn’t have even existed.

She sprinted through the main campus area and to the parking lot. Steph and Mikey might have given up and left by now. Chloe really should have texted either of them to say she was going to be running late. She owed them at least that much. But it had been a hectic day.

Steph and Mikey was hanging out in front of Steph’s car. They were talking. As Chloe got closer, she realized they were having a lighthearted debate about their latest tabletop RPG session. Chloe didn’t care enough to have a static opinion, but she appreciated how Steph and Mikey totally got into it. Chloe loved playing with them.

She came up to them, her arms swinging at her sides as she walked. The parking lot was pretty much deserted. Mostly cars, bikes, and license plates Chloe had read a thousand times. And of course Ms. Holt's awesome environment-friendly moped. Those pro-science stickers were kind of badass. "I Love Evolution"? So cheesy it was almost clever. But "The Science of Creamed Corn" was probably Chloe's favorite.

There was a dirty RV Chloe recognized. Another reason to get the hell out of Arcadia Bay. Even with her rewind to back her up, Chloe didn’t want to mess with creepy drug dealers or their attack dogs. How did the guy even get away with parking his RV right outside Blackwell? Did Wells really not give a crap about some sketchy weirdo dealing to kids?

"Hey," said Mikey.

He rubbed the back of his head and stood there awkwardly. This was normally the part where he would go in for the hug, but Chloe had enforced a strict No Hugging rule. She liked Mikey. _Really._ But they needed some boundaries.

"Yo," said Chloe. "So, coffee?"

Chloe wanted to get at least seven thousand miles away from Wells and Officer David Dickhead. But she could settle for driving a a few miles out of Arcadia Bay for a decent cup of coffee. There weren't any good places in Arcadia Bay other than the Two Whales. And Chloe hadn’t been back there since….

“Yeah, sure," said Steph. "Sounds good."

Chloe wasn't an idiot. She knew Mikey was totally in love with her. She tried not to think about it, but sometimes stuff got awkward when Steph wasn’t there to buffer. And Mikey was the opposite of subtle. Did he even know that Chloe knew?

"Are you okay?" said Steph.

Chloe stifled a laugh at Steph’s incredibly dumb question. Did she _look_ okay? Because Chloe was pretty sure she looked like absolute hell by now. All the rewinds, that drama in the bathroom. Not that Chloe looked like a supermodel. No make-up ever because way too many brands used animal products and Chloe didn’t even want to mess with that crap. Even if she did, Chloe thought make-up was stupid. She was okay with anyone who wanted to wear it, but she personally didn’t get the point. And Chloe’s entire morning routine consisted of grabbing a shirt from the floor, putting on the same hoodie she wore yesterday, and putting on a pair of jeans with one hole in the knee. Never a beauty queen, always looked like she just rolled out of bed and dragged a brush through her hair.

"No," said Chloe. "It has been an _insane_ fucking day."

Understatement of the century. Chloe was pretty sure this was hands-down the most insane day in Arcadia Bay history.

"You wanna talk about it?" said Mikey.

Chloe put herself between Steph and Mikey, grabbing each of their arms.

"Yeah, but not here," she said. "This isn't anyone's business, got it?”

She wasn't going to tell them about the time travel stuff. But she could tell them about the incident in the bathroom without mentioning her rewind.

"Of course," said Steph. "Whatever you need."

_Thanks, Nurse Steph._ Snark aside, Chloe was massively grateful.

Chloe couldn't believe Steph actually bought a used car. Well, she could, but she always imagined Steph cruising Arcadia Bay in something cooler. But not everyone at Blackwell was a rich snob. Case in point: Chloe Elizabeth Price.

Chloe heard her name shouted across the mostly deserted parking lot. She turned, stepping away from Mikey and Steph.

Nathan Prescott was marching in their direction. He looked more douchey than usual. Chloe hated how Nathan strutted around like he owned the place. Of course he _did_ almost own the place, but it still pissed Chloe off.

"Chloe Price, right?" said Nathan as he got closer.

Chloe stood her ground, even though she was kind of terrified. What did that freak want with her? Was Chloe just going to get hassled by every max-swagger dudebro at Blackwell today? Was it just one of those days?

"You're in Ms. Holt's class," said Nathan.

Chloe folded her arms.

"What the fuck ever," she said. "Is this _about_ something or is it Asshole O'Clock already?"

She took a step back. Even though she was talking tough, Chloe knew it was a pretty bad idea to antagonize a guy who whipped out a fucking _gun_ in the bathroom. But there was no way Nathan was dumb enough to pull that in a parking lot, right? Even Daddy Prescott wasn't slick enough to get his son pardoned for waving a gun around in broad daylight.

"It's _about_ you being a little snitch to the principal," said Nathan. "You think you're tough, bitch? You think the Prescotts don't own you?"

Chloe raised an eyebrow. Okay, Nathan's rage was kind of funny. Or at least it would have been if she didn't know about what he did. Or, um, _didn’t_ do? _Ugh. Why is time travel so fucking confusing?_

"Owns me?" said Chloe. "You wish. I’m not part of your squad, Nathan. I don’t owe you shit.”

Nathan clenched his fists. But Chloe didn't give a crap about Nathan's anger. He was a coward. Maybe the Vortex Club bolstered that little boy ego of his, but Chloe knew he was full of piss. All bark and zero bite.

_Except for when he, you know, shot Max. Remember that, Price? Remember seeing your best friend die?_ Chloe's stomach caved. Just thinking about about it made her want to heave. But more than that, it made Chloe want to beat the stuffing out of a Prescott. And since Nathan was within punching distance, he seemed like a more than excellent candidate for a beat-down. Too bad he didn’t have his bodyguards or a team of lawyers to save his dumb ass, but that would have made this less fun. Never send a human to do a Prescott’s job.

She stepped forward and slammed both palms against Nathan's chest, shoving him away from her. The same way Max tried to shove him in the bathroom. The last thing Max did before that gun went off and...

Mikey tried to grab Chloe's shoulders and hold her back, but she wriggled out of his halfhearted grip. It was three against one, but Steph and Mikey were smart enough to stay out of it. Still, Chloe appreciated having her best buds for backup. It made her feel like she wasn’t alone at Blackwell.

"Get the fuck away from me, dude," said Chloe. "You _do not_ want me pissed. Trust me."

Nathan narrowed his eyes at her. He talked like he was some kind of badass, but Chloe doubted he'd ever been in an actual fight. Why fight your own battles when you have an army of ass-kissers just waiting to beat down anyone who steps out of line?

"Try me, whore," he said.

Chloe clenched her hand into a tight fist.

"Balls or face, Nathan?" she said. "Dealer's choice."

Okay, so Chloe had never punched anyone before. She'd never been in a fight. And she was confident that Nathan could break that pretty face of hers if he really wanted to. But Chloe had her rewind. Nathan was a bully, Chloe was basically a fucking superhero. Chloe liked those odds.

It was science: every possible outcome of a situation existed within its own universe. And Chloe had been gifted the key to unlocking those millions of possible outcomes. So there had to be a universe in which she managed to get Nathan into a choke hold and make him see stars.

But in _this_ universe, Steph spoke up before Chloe could jam her knee into Nathan’s crotch.

“Leave her alone, dude,” said Steph.

Nathan immediately focused on her. He stormed over to her, his eyes flashing with rage. Nathan grabbed Steph by the collar and pulled her towards him. Chloe could see the fear in Steph’s eyes when Nathan grabbed her.

“Stay out of this, bitch,” said Nathan.

Mikey tried to grab Nathan’s arm, attempting to pull him away from Steph.

_God. Fucking. Dammit._ Chloe stepped back with her hands up, watching as the three of them struggled.

_Seriously?_ Could Steph and Mikey be any more of a killjoy? They couldn't even let her have this. Nope, her white knights Steph and Mikey had to swoop in and steal Chloe's one chance to get her revenge. And now she had to watch them struggling like, well, awkward high school students in a parking lot. Should she grab security? Rewind and kick Nathan’s ass?

Steph dragged her fingernails across Nathan’s face, leaving a trail of scratch marks. Nathan groaned and ducked his head, grabbing at his scratched face. Mikey tried to grab Nathan’s arm again, but Nathan whirled around and slapped Mikey across the face. The force of the slap was enough to knock Mikey to the ground.

Chloe was about to finally step in when a truck came blasting through the parking lot. It screeched to a halt a few inches away, almost plowing Chloe down.

She slammed her open palm against the hood, refocusing her anger on whatever piece of shit had nearly killed her.

"What the fuck?" said Chloe.

She started to flip off the driver, but she stopped. Chloe's arm dropped to her side, suddenly limp and useless. She felt like all the blood had retracted out of her skin and right into her heart. She could feel that gutsy little organ thump-thump-thumping against her rib cage, pumping like it was trying to bust out of Chloe's chest.

Chloe was a scientist. She didn't believe in fate or destiny or any of that bullshit. She believed in reason and logic and math. But given Chloe's newfound power and how batshit this day had been, maybe it was about time she started looking beyond science. Because there was no way science could explain what was happening to her. And science couldn't explain why Max Caulfield was staring at her through the windshield of a beat-up old truck.

Recognition flashed across Max's face. They knew each other instantly, like an electric current passing between them. It had been so long. It had been _so fucking long._ And the last time Chloe saw Max, the last time she saw _this_ Max, everything was different.

The image slipped into Chloe's head again: Max lying on the bathroom floor, Max bleeding out all over the cold tiles, Max staring at nothing with her empty eyes, Max with a hole in her side. And Nathan freaking out because he 'd _made_ that hole in her side, because he knew he'd fucked up, because he realized he wasn't getting out of this one.

"Max?" said Chloe.

Her lips were dry and her throat was sandpaper.

Max clutched the steering wheel.

"Chloe?" she said.

Out of the corner of her eye, Chloe saw David Dickhead making a beeline for them. Showing up late to deal with Nathan Prescott. And there was zero chance that Chloe wasn’t going to get dragged into this. Wells and David would definitely find a way to blame Chloe for everything.

Max shoved open the passenger's side door.

"You coming?" she said.

Chloe nearly sobbed in relief. She wanted to just curl up and start crying. But there would be plenty of time for that mushy stuff later. Plenty of time to fall into Max's arms and sob her eyes out. Chloe didn't realize until that moment how long she'd been waiting to do that.

Chloe had briefly asked herself why she risked her life like that. What made her so determined to save this girl? Chloe barely knew Max anymore. After five years apart, they were practically strangers. And if Max had been anyone else, Chloe wouldn't have potentially screwed the timeline to keep her safe.

This was a second chance. A chance for Chloe to prove she wasn't a shitty friend. For once in her life, the universe was giving her a choice she could make. The universe was throwing her a bone.

Chloe hopped into the truck and shut the door behind her. There was really only one choice: Max.


	4. Max's House

It made perfect sense that Chloe would end up cruising through Arcadia in Max's beat-up truck. It had been that kind of day.

Chloe kept glancing at Max as they tore up the road. _Holy shit._ Chloe barely recognized the shy girl she'd played pirates with. Max had totally changed her style. Same classic Caulfield, but with a few twists. Even the way she sat--leaning back, hand on the wheel--was so different from anything Chloe could have imagined. This Max seemed more chill.

A battered old Spock bobblehead sat on the dashboard. _Oh shit. Old Max alert._ So Max was probably still an ultra-nerd. Just an ultra-nerd with an awesome pixie cut and clothes that screamed punk rocker. Chloe approved.

Chloe tugged at her own boring hair. _Fuck._ Maybe she should have dyed her hair. Chloe always wanted colored bangs like Pris from _Blade Runner._ But she never got around to actually doing it. Too busy being a total science geek and and the world's shittiest friend. Maybe it was time for a makeover?

She glanced at the tats covering Max's arm. Those definitely weren't there the last time they talked. But then again, that was five whole years ago. Neither of them were the same person they'd been when Chloe left for Seattle.

"Thanks, Max," said Chloe.

Max nodded without saying anything, her eyes on the road.

_Oh. Right. Shit._ So much for Chloe's happy reunion fantasy. On second thought, maybe this was just part of the universe's big elaborate torture plan. This was starting to feel like a circle of Dante's inferno.

There was a messenger bag on the seat between Chloe and Max. It had a bunch of _Save the Whales_ and _The Future is Female_ patches sewn on it.

Chloe's foot nudged something. She drew her leg back a little and leaned forward to see what was under her seat.

A camera. That crappy little Polaroid camera that was just so _Max._ Chloe could almost hear Max complaining about how finding film for those was basically impossible. Chloe had been waiting for the day Max went digital. But that was never going to happen.

"Wow," said Chloe. "You're still taking pictures? Way to go, Mad Max."

That actually got a chuckle out of Max. Halfhearted, but it was progress.

"Well, duh," said Max. "You think I'd stop taking photos just because my best friend bailed on me? You're high."

Chloe flinched. _Ouch. Way to twist the knife._ Not that Chloe didn't deserve it. She'd been an ass and she totally owned up to that. Chloe didn't deserve to forget all those years of no-contact and they both knew it.

"I didn't--I didn't bail on you," said Chloe. "My parents moved. End of story. I was a kid, Max. There was nothing I could do."

Max let out a long sigh, like they'd been over this before. She'd probably had this conversation in her head a million times. Chloe certainly had.

"Except, I don't know, actually calling me?" said Max. "I get you were busy, but that was not cool. You could have at least texted me."

She sounded so sad, like she was still hurting. And why wouldn’t she be? Chloe had let Max down. There was no getting around that.

"I _did_ text you, dumbass," said Chloe. "I texted you, like, five times."

Max let out a bitter laugh. It was maybe the saddest sound Chloe had heard in a long time.

"Yeah, and then you stopped," said Max. "Do you know how many times I read those texts, Chloe? Do you know how many times I just sat in my room and wondered what the hell I did wrong? I needed you and you couldn't even be bothered. Such bullshit."

Chloe wanted to defend herself, but Max wasn't finished.

"I gave up so much for you," said Max. "I let you boss me around. And then when I really needed you, when I felt like shit and just needed my best friend? Gone. Like my feelings never fucking mattered."

That hit Chloe like a sledgehammer to the chest. Was that really what Max thought their friendship was? Chloe bossing Max around? Did Max not remember their Super Secret Closet Lair or their pirate fort or the lighthouse? Or was Max so pissed that all she could think about was how she'd been a total pushover and Chloe had been kind of an ass?

"Of course you mattered," said Chloe. "I just--I just needed time to adjust, okay? And then I had so much shit to do and--and Seattle is _big,_ Max. And I was overwhelmed and I wanted to not be just this dumb geek girl in a big fucking city and.."

Max cut across her.

"And then you came back," said Max. "You came back and didn't even bother calling me. You've been here a month. Holy crap, Chloe. If you don't want to be friends anymore, just say it."

Chloe clutched her knees. _Not cool, Price. Not fucking cool._

"Dude, of course I still want to be friends," said Chloe. "I-I don't know why I didn't call."

Max let out a dry chuckle.

"It's okay," she said. "I know why you didn't call."

But she didn't elaborate. Max just left that hanging in the air, like there was nothing else that needed to be said.

Chloe sat back in her seat. Despite everything, she was happy. She was happy that Max wasn't pissed enough to kick her out of the truck. She was happy that Max still wanted her in her life, even if Chloe didn't deserve it.

Arcadia Bay really wasn't the place for a do-over. But Chloe had already jumped into a brand new timeline. Anything was possible.

"So how was Seattle?" said Max.

Chloe could hear the subtle jealousy in Max's voice. She felt a twinge of guilt in her chest, even though it wasn't her fault. A lot of this wasn't her fault. But some of it was, so Chloe wasn't letting herself off the hook.

"It was nice," said Chloe. "Big and beautiful. A real city for artists. You would have loved it."

That last part must have come off as dick-ish, but Chloe was being serious. She wasn't the one who'd dreamed about going to Seattle or New York. She wasn't the one who wanted to be a famous photographer. That was all Max.

"I bet," said Max. "But you came back for Blackwell."

The last part stung. "Came back for _Blackwell."_ Not her best friend. _Blackwell._

"Well, yeah," said Chloe. "It's actually a pretty nice school. Plus Ms. Holt is one of the best teachers ever. I mean, did you read that essay she published in _Chem Beat?_ She's, like, the smartest woman ever. And hot."

The corners of Max's mouth twitched like she was holding back a smile.

"Wish I didn't drop out," said Max. "What's Mark Jefferson like?"

Of course Max would be interested in the photography guy. Chloe could have predicted that.

"Hipster," said Chloe. "Joking. But he _is_ your type, if that's what you're asking."

Max blushed. Chloe wasn’t dumb. She knew exactly why Max would be interested in an attractive artist guy like Mark Jefferson. Max wasn’t even subtle.

"Shut up," she said.

Chloe laughed.

"I meant because he's cool," said Chloe. "I don't know him _that_ well. But he doesn't treat me like I'm an annoying brat. You have my blessing, Mad Max."

Max rolled her eyes, but she was still blushing. Her reaction was so Old Max. It was like they were kids again. Hanging out and teasing each other.

"Seriously, that's not what I meant," said Max. "I just like his work. That's all. I like what he does with a camera."

Chloe snorted.

"Yeah, I'm sure you want to get up close and personal with his _camera,"_ said Chloe.

Max turned an even deeper shade of red. _Holy crap._ This was almost too easy. Some things were never going to change. And Chloe was massively grateful for that.

"Oh my god, Chloe," said Max. "You're so gross."

Chloe rolled her eyes.

"Oh grow up," she said. "I have no shame and you shouldn't either."

Chloe needed to get that printed on a mug. Or matching mugs for her _and_ her recently returned bestie.

"Where are we going?" said Chloe.

Max shrugged her shoulders.

"Back to my place?" she said. "You can't exactly go back to Blackwell now."

As if Chloe _wanted_ to go back to Blackwell. This would have been a pretty good chance to ditch that hellhole forever. Maybe she could move in with Max and her mom. Live out the rest of her life with her best friend in the world. But Chloe doubted her parents--even her dad--would be up for that. They were just barely on board with sending their precious kid back to her hometown so she could attend Blackwell.

"Sure," said Chloe. "We can catch up. Just like old times."

Chloe said it, but she didn't believe it. There was no way this was going to be like old times. Not by a long shot.

* * *

Max's room was very, well, _different._

Chloe remembered walls covered with movie posters, photos all over the walls, cutouts from magazines, lots of artsy shit. It was dumb, but Chloe loved every inch of Max's geeky bedroom.

The movie posters were still there, but there were also posters for a bunch of folk and indie bands that Chloe didn't recognize. And the Polaroids were a lot less organized. There were just random snapshots dotted all over the walls. There was an open suitcase full of CDs next to Max's bed. Max used to be a total clean freak. The room wasn't exactly super messy, but it was definitely less organized than Chloe was used to.

"Make yourself at home," said Max.

She flopped down on the bed.

"Wanna blaze?" said Max.

Chloe blinked, caught totally off guard. This was a girl who refused to pirate music, a girl who got flustered over dirty jokes. This was a girl who spit out her first sip of wine and refused to touch the stuff ever again. How could someone like that just casually ask Chloe if she wanted to "blaze"?

"Uh, sure," said Chloe. "Always."

Max smiled.

"Awesome," she said. "Can you put on some music first? I've got some CDs on my desk."

Chloe nodded without saying anything. This Max was so _different._ The way she just laid into Chloe in the truck? And now this? It was like Chloe was looking at, well, a totally different person inside Max's body. But even that wasn't accurate, because the outside had changed. Hardly anything about this new Max reminded Chloe of her best friend.

She walked over to Max's desk. _What did you expect? Your best friend to just be waiting for you like a faithful dog? Get a grip, Price._ Of course Max had changed. Hadn't they been over this twice already? Max had changed, Chloe had changed. Arcadia Bay had changed. Nothing stays the same, the world is in a constant state of flux, _blah blah blah._ So why did Chloe keep getting thrown off balance?

She sorted through the stack of CDs on Max's desk. _Oh shit._ Chloe grinned to herself. Was Max just slowly turning into a more softcore version of Chloe's younger self? Or was Chloe having an ego trip?

She grabbed a random disk. Max probably didn't care about the actual music. But Chloe was curious about what Max listened to now. It had to be different from the stuff Max used to love when they were kids.

Chloe started to straighten up with the CD in her hand, but she noticed a photo pinned up beside Max's desk. Of course there were photos everywhere. Chloe was happy that Max was still taking pictures around Arcadia Bay. But this particular photo snatched Chloe's attention.

She stepped away from the desk.

"That's Rachel Amber," she said.

Chloe knew that face. And Rachel looked so happy in that photo. Less stoic than her face on the posters.

Max sat up on her bed.

"Yeah," she said.

Chloe spun around with the disk in her hand. _Really?_ "Yeah"? That was all Max had to say? This had to be more than a "yeah".

"You knew her?" said Chloe.

Max didn't say anything. She just stared at her lap, her shoulders slumped and her face totally blank. She looked like she'd been weighed down for a thousand years. A thousand years of Chloe not calling her, Chloe ignoring her texts, Chloe pretending that her best friend in the whole world didn't fucking exist.

Rachel's smiling face bubbled to the top of Chloe's thoughts. Chloe sat down next to Max on the bed. She tried to imagine Rachel and Max together, but she totally blanked. Rachel seemed so alive, so fearless. The opposite of everything Max used to be.

"What happened to her?" said Chloe.

Max let out a long miserable sigh.

"I don't know," she said. "She just left. One day she was here, the next day she was gone. Like my dad. Like you."

Max had a photo of her dad tacked up beside the old height chart. There was a jagged line running across the center from top to bottom, like Max had ripped it in two or something. A piece of clear tape secured the halves together. Chloe recognized Max's dad--Ryan--from all the time she used to spend at Max's house. Those kind eyes, that bushy reddish beard. He looked like a young Santa Claus. They used to make him keep track of their heights. Until they stopped growing up together.

"And she didn't say anything?" said Chloe.

Max shook her head.

"Nope," she said. "She just left without me. I know she's missing, Chloe. Something happened to her."

Her voice got quieter. Chloe had to lean in slightly to hear the next words out of Max's mouth.

"I loved her," said Max. "God, I loved her so much."

Jealousy coiled around Chloe's ribcage, followed closely by a pang of guilt deep in her stomach. _God, Price. Can you be anymore pathetic?_ But Chloe couldn't help it. Just hearing Max talk about Rachel. The way Max's voice changed, that touch of genuine agony that Chloe had never heard before. And the agony wasn't for Chloe, it wasn't for their broken friendship. It was for some girl Chloe never even met, a girl Max had only known for two or three years.

"Wait, were you two...?" said Chloe.

She paused.

"I guess?" said Max. "I'm not really sure what we had, but we had it. She understood me and I understood her. She was my first kiss."

Chloe's stomach turned over. _Oh._ So she _had_ missed some things while she was gone. There was stuff about Max that she didn't know, stuff that was way more interesting than a pixie cut or new clothes.

"Max, you're--damn," said Chloe. "Way to go, I guess? I-I know a little about these things. If you need to talk, I'm-I'm here. I've got your back."

Max patted Chloe's shoulder.

"Thanks, girlfriend," she said. "Glad to know I'm not the only gay nerd in Arcadia Bay."

Chloe gave Max a playful punch on the shoulder. _See? You're not so different. I guess everything is coming up Chloe._

She hopped off the bed and ran over to the hi-fi. She actually remembered that thing from the last time she was in Max's bedroom. Soundtracks and greatest hits playing over the pops and bangs and fizzing of their science experiments. So cute.

Chloe popped in the CD. She mentally braced herself for whatever kind of music this new Max listened to. Chloe's taste hadn't really evolved too much. She still liked punk and folk metal.

The chill opening strains of “Cool God _”_ by Jake Symes came pouring out of the speakers.

Max lay back on her bed, staring up at the ceiling with her head propped up by the pillow. She raised the joint to her mouth and took a long drag. Max blew out a puff of smoke through her slightly open lips.

Chloe grabbed her own joint and settled in Max's desk chair. Never thought she'd be getting high with her best friend. Max had never struck her as the type. Unlike Chloe, the girl who'd been psyched the day she discovered drugs.

_But of course. Gotta numb the pain, right?_ Chloe did drugs because she liked giving her parents a reason to be pissed. She thought smoking made her look all cool and badass. But Max? Max did them to numb the pain, to catch parts of herself as they flaked off. Suddenly Chloe didn't feel so awesome about scoring weed from Justin at Blackwell.

"So how's the golden ticket?" said Chloe.

Max worked her way through another drag before she said anything. What other vices did this new Max have? Booze? Reckless sex-capades? Chloe was morbidly curious.

"What?" said Max.

Chloe took another puff.

"Blackwell," she said. "You dropped out. Why? Too much asshole for Arcadia?"

Max must have had a scholarship. Chloe couldn't imagine throwing that in the trash. Well, okay, she couldn't imagine _Max_ throwing that in the trash. Wasn't Blackwell Maxine Caulfied's dream school?

"There's no story," said Max. "I just didn't feel like it was where I should be."

She inhaled and exhaled in one quick little burst.

"And it felt--it felt bad," said Max. "Going to Blackwell without you."

Chloe felt like Max just slapped her in the face. _FUCK._ Did Max drop out of school because of _her?_ Had Max shit all over her future in Chloe's name? That explained so much. There was no way Max would have just abandoned her dream school like that.

But now the world might never see Max's awesome photos. All because of selfish stupid Chloe Price.

Chloe ground out her joint in the ash tray. _Fuck. This._ This was supposed to be an amazing reunion with the one good person in this miserable town. It wasn't supposed to be another excuse for Chloe to throw a pity party. Every conversation with Max made her stomach twist and squirm in brand new ways. _God._ Things were so much better before Chloe stepped into that bathroom.

"So why was Nathan Prescott freaking out on you?" said Max.

Chloe chewed her bottom lip. _Dammit._ Should she just tell her the truth? The whole truth, including all the insane time travel stuff? Because if anyone in this hick town was going to believe in this beyond science bullcrap, it was a total sci-fi geek like Max. But was it okay for her to talk to Max before Steph or Mikey?

"You are _not_ going to believe me," said Chloe. "Seriously, Max. It's insane. Like some _Twilight Zone_ shit."

Max slid down to the edge of her bed. She sat there on the edge, her arms hanging past her lap as she leaned forward.

"Come on," she said. "It can't be weirder than us running into each other."

Chloe let out a chuckle. If Max didn't immediately assume Chloe was bullshitting her, they were totally bonded for life.

"Trust me, it's fucking insane," said Chloe.

She spilled the whole story. The nosebleed, the bathroom, the gun. And of course her rewind powers. It was ironic. When Chloe laid it all out like that, it actually made some kind of sense. It was like putting together a jigsaw puzzle picture-side-down. Everything fit together, but she had no clue what she was looking at.

She thought Max might have more luck, but _nope._ Max was even more stumped after Chloe told her the full story.

"Chloe, that's impossible," said Max.

Chloe nudged Max's ashtray to the other side of the desk. It was one of those crappy ash trays that little kids make for their parents.

"I know, right?" said Chloe. "I know it sounds--whatever. But I swear I'm for real. Something--something happened to me, Max. I have powers now."

Max absentmindedly intertwined her fingers.

"So you're like Spiderman, but with rewind powers?" said Max. "Not buying it."

Chloe jumped out of her chair. Usually when kids in books or movies got powers like this, they hid them because they were afraid of being outcasts. Well, fuck that. Chloe was already an outcast at Blackwell. Why not cement her status by revealing she was also a superpowered freak? Too bad no one except Max was ever going to believe her.

"Okay, I'll prove it," said Chloe. "I bet I can tell you everything that's going to happen in the next, like, five or ten minutes."

The confident grin slipped off her face when she said that, but Max didn't seem to notice.

"You're on, time girl," said Max.

She stood up and stretched.

"So what's gonna happen?" said Max.

Chloe mentally wrestled with herself for a few seconds. _Fuck._ This didn't feel okay. But that was why she had her rewind, right? Yeah, this was _exactly_ why she had her rewind. To change the past and hopefully build a better future.

"Uh, you're going to put on some music," said Chloe.

Max folded her arms and gave a exaggerated eye roll.

"Well, duh," she said. "I could have told you that. This place is getting _way_ too emo."

She marched over to the hi-fi and started messing with the buttons. _“Photographs”_ by Fialta blasted out of the speakers. The atmosphere in Max's bedroom abruptly shifted, bolstered by the energetic chords.

"And you're, um, going to ask me to dance with you," said Chloe.

Max laughed over the steadily building chorus of the song. She jumped forward and grabbed Chloe's wrists, hauling her into the middle of the room. It was hard to tell if Max even heard what Chloe said. Max was totally entranced by the music, her body bobbing and twisting.

It was the first time Max had looked so _happy._ The way she moved with the music, the way she was actually smiling. And Chloe awkwardly trying to keep up, attempting and failing to mirror Max's unexpected energy.

"This is fun," said Max. "What's next?"

Chloe swallowed hard. She tugged herself out of Max's grip. _God._ She missed this. She missed just being stupid kids in Max's room.

"Um, and now--and now...," Chloe started.

She backed away, getting a little closer to the bedroom door.

"Your, uh, your step-dad--your step-dad's going to come home," said Chloe. "And he's going to tell you the music is too loud."

Max frowned, her revelry dying. Chloe could already see those gears churning in Max's brain. Max was trying to figure out how Chloe could possibly know, well, any of that. Because Max never told Chloe about her stepfather.

"What...?" she said.

And just like the last time and the time before that, Max and Chloe both heard the front door bang open downstairs.

This was Chloe's third time? Maybe her fourth? She kind of lost count. It was funny. Chloe thought all she had to do was slap the reset button, but there was so much more to it. The talking part was always the hardest. Trying to keep everything straight in her head so she knew what she'd already tried and the words she'd used. But Chloe was getting the hang of this.

"Max, are you up there?" David shouted. "Can you turn down that music? Please? I've had a crappy day and I need some peace. Thank you."

He sounded so much less douchey than he did at Blackwell. Apparently he only engaged Total Dick Mode when he was within five feet of a Blackwell student. _Whatever._ As far as Chloe was concerned, that just made David even more of an asshole. If he could chain up the beast in his own house, why not at work?

David headed upstairs, his footsteps loud and intimidating.

Chloe remembered this part. She remembered it in almost photo-perfect detail. Except this time she wasn't going to be a dumbass. She knew what to do now. There was no point in making Max pissed at her.

She sprinted for the closet and threw herself inside. Chloe didn't even wait for Max to say anything this time around. During the last reset, Chloe and Max had gotten into a heated debate over the situation and David barged in on them. That was the opposite of fun.

David knocked and Max let him in.

Chloe's body reacted automatically, even though she was just getting a rush of information she already knew. She felt a chill run up her spine and her stomach tied itself into a little knot of anxiety. Chloe just couldn't believe that her best friend's step-dad was _David fucking Madsen._ What the hell would Vanessa--Max's mom--even see in that hairy dildo of a guy? Was he really that good at pretending he wasn't a complete dickhole?

David was talking. Chloe was only half-listening because she'd already heard some of this.

"You okay up here?" said David.

Max brushed some strands of hair out of her face.

"Oh, yeah, I'm fine," she said. "I was, uh, listening to some music."

David glanced at the hi-fi like he almost didn't believe her. Chloe wasn't clear on what evidence he needed, given that he had just yelled up the stairs about the music. But of course David couldn't stop being paranoid about every little fucking thing.

"Thought I heard--never mind," said David. "You know I worry, Max."

Max gave him a curt nod, accepting his concern without openly endorsing it. Living with David must have been so exhausting.

Chloe rolled her eyes. _God._ How could Max be nice to that prick? Chloe definitely couldn't. Her last two or three tries had ended in an absolute bloodbath of an argument.

Chloe pressed her nails into her palms. _No._ She had to stay where she was. She had to make sure David never found out she was there. For Max.

David and Max were still talking. They were moving into a segment of conversation that Chloe didn't recognize from any of her previous rewinds.

"One of my guns is missing," said David.

He paused.

"Now I'm not _accusing_ you, Max," he said. "But I can't stress this enough: guns aren't toys. I know you're a responsible adult. But--but I don't want anything to happen to you, okay? I promised your mom."

Max took a step towards David, her attitude shifting. Up until now, she'd been behaving a lot like the old Max: timid, quiet, just trying to keep the peace. During those last few rewinds, Max had been the one trying to de-escalate as Chloe and David shouted over her. But now Max looked slightly pissed and David seemed rattled.

"You promised my mom a lot of things," she said.

David held up both hands. Chloe could almost feel that pulse of anger right under David's skin. Those Blackwell punks constantly talked back to him, but he probably wasn't used to getting similar treatment in his own house.

"I'm just looking out for you," said David. "Your mother, she's..."

He trailed off, like the last part didn't need to be said.

"If you hear or see anything, get back to me," said David. "I need that gun back."

Chloe noticed that Max hadn't actually answered David's question. She got him with an excellent dodge and he didn't even seem to notice. _Way to go, Max. Fight the power._

David's demeanor changed. He was suddenly the gruff security guard Chloe knew from Blackwell, his brow furrowed and his shoulders squared like he was looking for a fight. It was the most _David_ he'd been in the past few minutes.

"And you better not be toking up in here," said David. "I mean it, Max. I _will_ tell your mother."

He marched out of her bedroom, loudly shutting the door behind him. Chloe had theorized that David must have served at some point. David's interaction with Max basically confirmed it.

Chloe slid open the closet door and hopped out. She had a brief moment of pure relief, sucking in a deep breath and touching the front of her shirt. Chloe used to love their Super Secret Closet Lair. Chloe could have sworn it wasn't so cramped back when they were kids.

"That guy's a prick," said Chloe.

Max fell backward onto her bed, her arms wrapped around her shoulders.

"You--you have powers," said Max.

_Oh. Right._ Chloe legitimately forgot about that. She was just starting to pat herself on the back over how much better this went compared to the other rewinds. This whole social interaction thing was so needlessly complicated. Having to not piss off David was probably the hardest decision Chloe had made that day.

Chloe sat down next to Max. This was uncharted territory for her. She usually hit reset after David left because Max was angry at her. Things had gone so smoothly this time.

"Yeah," said Chloe. "Like I said, fucking insane."

Max grabbed Chloe's wrist. She clamped her fingers around it in a vice grip. Chloe thought she could hear Max's heart thumping.

Chloe's heart slammed into her ribcage. _What...?!_

"Chloe, you have to be careful," said Max. "If you can do this, if this is for real... God, Chloe. This isn't a toy."

Chloe reluctantly yanked her wrist out of Max's grip. She didn't get why Max was freaking out on her. Yeah, she predicted Max would have a strong reaction. But she'd expected about seventy-percent less judgment from her best friend. Shouldn't Max be gushing about how her friend was a _fucking time-traveling badass?_

"Um, screw that," said Chloe. "Of course it's a fucking toy. What part of "instant replay" do you not get, Mad Max?"

She rubbed her wrist, tracing invisible lines with her thumb.

"And what about _your_ toy?" said Chloe. "So you get to play, but I don't? Thanks a lot, bestie."

Max stared at her in disbelief. She probably realized there was no point in denying it. After all, they were sharing.

"Chloe, I didn't take David's gun just because," she said.

She glanced at her nightstand drawer. Terrible place to hide a gun, but Chloe was in no position to judge. If someone handed Chloe a firearm, she likely would have stashed it in her dresser or left it on her desk like a trophy.

"What, you're not using it for target practice?" said Chloe. " _Bor-ing._ "

Max shook her head.

"Jesus," she said. "Have you not seen all the creepy assholes in Arcadia Bay? Of course I want a gun."

She looked away, her face covered in guilt.

"And David knows," said Max. "He's waiting for me to bring it back. And--and he won't tell Mom if I keep my mouth shut about the spy cams."

Chloe felt like someone had crushed the air out of her lungs. It was ironic how quickly her happiness over seeing David get his ass handed to him turned into fear.

"Wait, spy cams?" said Chloe. "For real?"

Max fidgeted. Chloe couldn't really relate to not wanting to talk about her home life, but she understood why Max was struggling to speak up/ How could either of them have guessed that this was what would happen to them when they grew up? Max got a paranoid asshole for a step-dad and Chloe got superpowers. It seemed a little unfair.

"Yeah," said Max. "They're all over the house. David pretends I don't know about them. He had one in my room for a while, but I think he took that one out."

Chloe relaxed. So David probably didn't see her hiding in the closet. And there was zero chance he noticed Chloe fucking with the fabric of space and time. Chloe was less worried about being caught in Max's bedroom and more worried about David somehow realizing that someone at Blackwell had superpowers.

"See?" said Chloe. "He's a prick. How do you put up with him? Seriously, how have you not put a metal bat through his face?"

Max shrugged. Chloe barely understood why Max felt the need to defend that asshole. Arcadia Bay was the land of low standards, but Vanessa could have done better. That woman was a bombshell with a nice big brain to match. Why would someone so awesome settle for David Madsen?

"He cares," said Max. "He's a dick, but he makes my mom happy."

Chloe didn't see how, but she let it go. As if Chloe had ever had a serious relationship with anyone. She wasn't really in a position to judge Vanessa's love life.

Chloe shifted her position. How many milestones had she missed? Not just in Max's life, but in her own? Eighteen years old and all Chloe had under her belt was a few boring flings with an art girl in Seattle. Chloe thought she'd be a total lady killer when she got the hell out of Bigfootville. But that sounded so meaningless compared to whatever connection Max and Rachel had.

"So any other Rachels I should know about?" said Chloe.

Max tilted her head up to look at the ceiling and pursed her lips.

"Uh, there was this Warren guy," she said. "We kind of had a thing going for a while, but it never went anywhere. He was too chicken-shit to say he was into me and I wasn't really feeling it. We haven't talked at all since we split up."

Chloe's stomach sank. _One fling with an art girl in Seattle._ A few weeks of above average sex and sporadic texting. Dumped before Chloe even knew what that word actually meant, before she knew how much something so frivolous could cave in her soul. The art girl moved on to someone better. Chloe sat in her house and was sad for a few days.

The soul-caving happened afterward. Because Chloe suddenly realized it was empty and frivolous and altogether just not what she wanted. Chloe wanted those weeks back.


	5. The Lighthouse

Max and Chloe sneaked out of the window and went to the lighthouse.

It was something they used to do all the time when they were kids. The lighthouse was _their_ place. It was where they hung out when they wanted to have fun. Chloe wondered how many times Max had come back there since Chloe left. Probably zero.

They settled on a bench overlooking the cliff. _Holy shit._ The view was breathtaking. Max probably would have taken a dozen photos if she'd had her camera with her.

Max didn't have her camera, but Chloe had her trusty marker. Before they sat down, Chloe scrawled _"Trust No One"_ on the little notice board near the path leading up to the lighthouse. Not the most original message, but Chloe could always use a reminder.

"Missed this view," said Chloe. "Seattle can suck it."

Max turned to her in surprise.

"I thought you loved Seattle," she said.

Chloe laughed.

"Did I say that?" she said. "Max, come on. It fucking sucked. I'm not some hipster artist. I'm a scientist. Seattle's the worst."

Max stared at her lap, anxiously twisting her fingers like pretzels.

"Jesus, Chloe," she said. "I thought--I mean, I thought at least you were..."

Chloe grinned bitterly. _"Happy?"_ Chloe wished she could call what she had in Seattle happiness. She wished she'd made friends. She wished her life in Seattle had been a constant party instead of rolling hills of boredom and frustration. Chloe could have spent those empty years in Arcadia Bay with her best friend. If only her dad didn't take that job.

"Guess you're not the only one whose life sucks balls," said Chloe.

She reached over and rubbed Max's shoulder.

"Speaking of balls, what's the deal with Nathan Prescott?" said Chloe. "Don't tell me you were banging that prick. Or buying drugs off him."

She knew Max was better than that, but Chloe had to make sure. Chloe got all of her drugs from Frank Bowers, a shining beacon of Arcadia Bay. Well, technically she got them from Justin who got them from Frank Bowers. Chloe wouldn't have gone within three feet of that creepy guy or his RV. Chloe had heard that Frank had a friend with a neck tattoo who was somehow even scarier than Frank. No fucking thanks.

Max swallowed a lump in her throat.

"Chloe, you have to promise not to freak out," she said. "Okay? I-I know this sounds...I know how this sounds. But I'm okay."

Chloe felt like someone had tightened a vice around her chest, but she nodded. Whatever Max had to tell her, it couldn't be any freakier than time powers.

“I was trying to find Rachel,” Max said. “I had my own investigation going and-and I thought...I thought maybe Nathan had something to do with it.”

She swallowed hard. Well, that checked out. Max had always been way too nosy for her own good. If Chloe had gone missing, would Max have looked for her? Would Max have faced down a _Prescott_ for Chloe?

Max folded her hands in her lap and stared into the sunset. It was so peaceful and pretty. Like a painting. Or a photograph.

“I don’t have any proof,” Max said. “But if anyone knew something, it had to be a Prescott, right? I-I thought since he cared about Rachel, he might at least want to, you know, help me.”

She hugged herself, her eyes filled with pain as the memories flooded back.

"We agreed to meet in the bathroom,” Max said. “I really thought—I thought he was ready to talk. But...”

Chloe's stomach dropped. She wanted to say something a good friend would say, but she was totally speechless. Speechless and fucking furious. She should have ended that prick when she had the chance. Chloe actually felt sick. She was remembering the Samantha video. If Chloe had learned anything today, it was that Nathan was truly dangerous. Dangerous _and_ part of Blackwell’s elite. Bad combo.

"And he brought a gun?" said Chloe. "That's fucking insane."

She was already thinking up ways to make that dickhead suffer. After all the shit Nathan had pulled, he more than deserved some serious karma. And Chloe just so happened to be equipped for the task. All she needed was some chemicals from the science lab and five minutes alone with that piece of shit.

"I was desperate," said Max.

Chloe groaned. _But._ Of course Nathan was seven steps ahead of Max. Max wasn't an idiot, but she was way too trusting. _At least it's better than being paranoid as hell, Price. Pessimism isn't cute._

"Don't freak," said Chloe. "I have my rewind, right? And that prick's going to fucking pay for all the shit he's done. I promise."

Max grabbed Chloe's shoulder. She latched on hard, digging her nails in. She was trying to look super chill, but Chloe could tell Max was scared out of her mind.

"Chloe, _do not_ count on your powers," said Max. "Nathan's dangerous. You saw what he did to me in that bathroom. You can't just rush in and hope your rewind works."

Chloe wriggled her shoulder out of Max's grip. _Seriously?_ After all the shit they went through today, Max was still being all _Max?_ _Ugh._ Couldn't her _best friend_ just trust her for once? What the hell was Max's problem?

"Right again, Maximus," said Chloe. "Congrats, you're officially smarter than my dumb ass. Must feel good to lecture the girl with superpowers about how to use her superpowers."

Max patted Chloe's hand.

"That's not what this is," she said. "I just want you to be okay. You can't rewind faster than a bullet, Chloe. Nathan has drugs and he has a fucking gun. Use your head."

Chloe was physically incapable of being pissed. Because she knew Max was right. If Nathan actually jumped her with that stupid little toy of his, Chloe was shit out of luck. No amount of "redo" was going to save her from a hole in her head. And if she got fucked up, Max would be....

She grabbed the side of her head. _Fuck._ There it was again, just out of nowhere. That feeling of her head being crushed. It didn't even hurt like a normal headache. It was just pressure, like someone squeezing the air out of a basketball.

Chloe swabbed a finger under her nose. The tip came away red. Another nosebleed.

Max's voice bounced around the back of her head. Chloe tried to focus on that, to grab it and hold it so she could stay centered. But it just got further and further away, like Max was speeding through a tunnel. Chloe had her eyes shut because she knew the light would blind her.

She raised her head and opened her eyes. _The hell?_

Chloe could still hear Max's voice, but everything was wrong. The colors were washed out. The wind was shrieking in her ears, heavy sheets of rain slapped her face. Chloe could feel her jeans getting soaked and her hair was plastered to her face like a curtain. She tried to brush some strands aside so she could see better, but it was a losing battle. Chloe could hardly make out anything past the screen of rain in front of her.

Max was screaming at her. No, not _at_ her. Max was just screaming, screaming so loud and so desperately that Chloe was afraid she might go deaf. Between the rain, the wind, and Max's screaming, it was just too much.

"Max?" Chloe tried to yell. "Max?"

But her lips were glued shut. She tried to look around, but she couldn't see anyone. Chloe was alone on the bench, deafened and confused. But Max _had_ to be there. Chloe could hear her, she could _hear..._

A piece of paper flitted towards Chloe. It dipped and spun like it was dancing on the wind. Instinctively, Chloe raised her rain-soaked hand and caught it. Years of TP wars had given her amazing reflexes.

Even through the haze, Chloe could make out some of the words. Half the ink was washed away, but she could tell it was a newspaper. There was a date printed at the top, even though the headline was illegible.

_October 21st._ Friday. Four days from now...then...whenever.

Chloe let the newspaper slip out of her hand. She let it fly away, carried by a gust into the great unknown. She watched as it spiraled away from her. It spun over the water and right towards the massive storm heading straight for Arcadia Bay.

A single thought flashed through Chloe’s head: if reality was only what you could feel, then “real” is just your brain interpreting electrical signals. It was something Ms. Holt liked to say. One of those lessons that never really left Chloe’s head.

Arcadia Bay was about to get decimated by a storm. That was reality. And Chloe was standing on the cliff watching it happen. She was watching that behemoth of a storm advancing towards the town, about to wreck everything and everyone she cared about. And there was nothing she could do about it.

This was real. _This was real._

Chloe felt someone grab her shoulder. She didn't react. She just blinked. And sometime between the blink and the shoulder grab, the scene in front of her shifted. Chloe wasn't watching the storm anymore. She was sitting on the bench staring out at a perfectly clear sky.

"Chloe?" Max was saying. "Jesus. Are you okay? You zoned."

Chloe almost laughed. _Zoned? Really?_ She fucking wished. But Chloe knew she didn't just black out. She'd actually felt the electricity in the air, the rain against her skin, the howling wind. It was too real to be a dream. And if what Chloe saw was for real, Arcadia Bay was screwed.

Chloe thought she'd be happy. Didn't she always talk about how she wished Arcadia Bay would get taken out by a huge storm? How she wanted the whole town to just get wiped off the fucking map? But Chloe wasn't excited. She felt like there was a boulder in her stomach.

"I saw...oh _fuck,"_ said Chloe. "We're screwed, Max. We're totally screwed."

She started to explain her vision, even though it sounded insane. But wasn't that this day in a nutshell? Pure unfiltered insanity? Chloe almost felt like she was describing something normal. But freaky visions of the future were kind of a step up from time powers. None of this made any sense.

Time travel? Visions of the future? How did science explain anything that had happened to her? But there had to be a scientific explanation. A wormhole, quantum physics. Maybe Chloe had whacked her head and she was in a coma? That made sense. One last absurd fantasy before Chloe’s brain shut down. But she couldn’t shake the feeling that this was _real._ Every last part of I was insane, yet it didn’t feel like her brain jerking her around. _This was real._

Halfway through her story, Chloe felt something touch her forehead. She raised a hand to wipe it away, frowning. _What the hell?_ Could this day give her a break?

Chloe looked up at the sky. She thought she could handle anything. What else could this batshit insane day throw at her? A giant? Psychic powers? Ghosts? If Arcadia Bay was trying to freak her out, it should have started off slow and worked its way up. This was too much too fast.

It was snowing. Actually _snowing._ How? How did this day keep getting weirder? _Jesus._ Was this Chloe's new normal? Should she just accept that all this crazy shit was her life now? Every time Chloe thought she could readjust, she got another mystery thrown in her face. And it all started in a fucking _bathroom._

"Fucking climate change," said Max.

But Chloe shook her head. She would have loved to blame Mother Nature, but this went far beyond some environmental stuff. Whatever was happening right now, it extended deeper into the earth than anything Chloe had ever seen before. And it was starting to feel way too much like the end of the world.

No, not the world. Just Arcadia Bay.

* * *

**Epilogue**

Nathan Prescott sat in his room, muttering to himself with his head in his hands. The gun was on the bed next to him, alongside an open bottle of pills. Small orange and white tablets spilled off the side of the bed.

David Madsen re-watched the security footage from earlier that morning. He knew it was just a glitch. But he had a strange feeling in his stomach. David rewound the tape and watched it again. He zoomed in on Chloe Price's face.

Samantha sat in her usual spot with a book, but she wasn’t reading. She was staring up at the sky and watching the snow fall.

Vanessa Caulfield took a long sip of her coffee and stared out the window. It was in the day and the Two Whales diner was mostly empty. She watched the snow with a confused look on her face.

Mark Jefferson didn’t notice the snow outside. He took a long sip of alcohol from his glass and laughed. Ashley Holt was beside him, her hand brushing his arm.

Principal Wells poured himself a third drink. He was still trying to de-stress after the fire alarm and his conversation with Chloe Price. He knew he shouldn't be drinking like that at work, but Wells didn’t care. He sipped his drink and thought about the Prescotts.

Chloe was sitting on the ground, her entire body crumpled against Max. She wasn’t crying, even though she felt like she should. Max's body was warm. The snow continued to fall, but neither of them were paying attention.


End file.
